


Unravel

by Torun



Series: The Paths We Must Take [3]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Dwarven Politics, Elf Culture & Customs, F/F, F/M, Family Drama, Family History, Family Secrets, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Interracial Relationship, Magic, Orc Culture, Orcs, Relationship(s), Rule 63, Sexual Assault, The Hobbit AU, Travels, Unrequited Love, Violence, character history, female orcs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-21
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-03-08 13:32:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 183,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3210959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Torun/pseuds/Torun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What begins as an attempt to change the future, will reveal something which will have repercussions for Dwarven society in general and the kingdom of Erebor in particular. Sequel to The Fell Winter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a few words before we start.
> 
> In case you haven't done so already, I suggest you find The Fell Winter and Winter Tales first and read them. Why? Because they precede this story and I have written them and this as part of a series, and there are things in this story that don't make much sense without having read them.
> 
> This is also completely AU, even if it's set in Middle Earth. This means I have chosen to change things around – a lot. If that's not your cup of dried black leaves soaked in hot water, leave it. What you can count on is that I have pondered Tolkien canon a lot, how to use it and change it for it to become logical. He also had quite a lot of holes in his knowledge about all sorts of things which makes it difficult to use his canon as-is without cringing, not to mention that he certainly was a man of his time, country, and class. It shows in his writing.
> 
> As for Peter Jackson's film-verse, yes, I have used that too, though I’m not nearly as gracious towards him as to Tolkien. My reason for this is that it's his interpretation of Tolkien, so we are equal in that we're both borrowing Middle Earth for a while. But he, Fran Walsh, and Philippa Boyens did come up with some interesting things that I have decided to keep.
> 
> And if you had a problem with Tauriel being added to the films, this is not a story for you. There are at least seven female OC's that has been added in smaller and larger roles throughout this series and I have kept Tauriel on top of that. I have also applied Rule 63 (for any given male character, there is a female version of that character). As a canon female character Galadriel has an obvious place here, as does Dis. Brace yourselves, for the latter is very important in this third part of the series.
> 
> Last, but not least – Orcs. You'll meet some, in a way you rarely do, if ever. I refuse to buy the very racist notion of the faceless, all twisted, and evil, enemy. One of the many flaws in Tolkien's world. 
> 
> For anyone interested in spoilers, headcanon and general thoughts behind this series, I suggest you find my Tumblr blog dedicated to my writing; torunwrites.tumblr.com. 
> 
> The only thing I own is my imagination.
> 
> Happy reading!

_Erebor, 2941 TA, November 14 th, 21 days after Smaug's death_

Mari sat leaning against a crenellation on the ramparts high above the main entrance to Erebor, watching the sun rise over the Desolation, drinking in the solitude as had become her habit the past few weeks. It was a chilly morning and there was a distinct taste of metal in the air. The clouds in the sky, looking like they were dipped in pinks and purples, most likely would bring snow to the mountain as the day wore on.

Despite the nippy weather it was a relief to come outside whenever she had a chance. Since they had arrived at the Desolation she had been feeling nauseated and with it came tiredness. She herself attributed it to the dragon's long presence in the mountain. Who knew what Smaug had infested the place with? Fresh air at least helped somewhat and every morning she sought refuge out here on her own, watching the sun rise.

She wasn't completely alone of course. Aside from the usual guards, she had a shadow. Usually it was one of Dwalin's trustworthy men, but on occasion it was the man himself. Today, though, she had a somewhat unusual one – Fili. Her friends usually let her have this moment to herself so his presence did pique her curiosity. Eventually, when the cold drove her inside, she'd have to poke at him about it. For now though, she was happy sitting where she was, facing the red sun with him faintly visible in the shadow of an arch, his blond hair giving his position away.

She studied Dale in the distance. There were subtle signs the town was slowly coming to life. It made her smile as she spotted a thin pillar of smoke rising from somewhere inside the city walls.

With a soft sigh she turned her eyes to Mirkwood. There had been little information on the developments in the south. The ravens had told them the Elves were returning, but that was the only news they'd had so far.

To her left she heard the clang of steps on stone and she threw a cursory glance at the one intruding on her musings, catching Fili's blond hair. He was slowly making his way over to where she was seated on the wide and strong wall. Her eyes refocussed on Mirkwood.

"You often look to the south," he said when he was within distance for a conversation. "I can tell it is worrying you."

Mari smiled faintly. "And it's not bothering you at all?"

He squinted his eyes and shot what almost was a glare to the south too. "Of course I care. There's no point to losing sleep over it, though. Kili tells me you dream. New ones," he continued and came to a halt next to her.

She hadn't told Kili what she was seeing in her dreams as she woke up, sweat-soaked, with a hammering heart. She could do nothing but mutely raise and tear to the side the skin put up in front of the embrasure to keep the cold winds out, and stare into the darkness. Other times she woke with a dull ache in her chest, grieving over the world as it was, wishing it could be different even though she knew it was futile.

"How would he know it's new? I have told him nothing." She knew it was childish, because it would be pretty clear to someone who'd shared her bed the past two years that the nature of her nightmares had changed lately.

"Something has you more terrified than the Orcs that used to try to slay you before. Then there are the times you wake and simply stare for the rest of the night into the fire. He never saw you like that before. It makes us both uneasy."

She tried to shrug, but the old wound twinged and her face briefly contorted in pain. Fili reached out and put his hand on her shoulder.

"Still bothering you?" With open concern he stepped unusually close for being in public. Ever since they had arrived in the Iron Hills in summer he'd kept a slight distance between them in public spaces, the way he hadn't before. It didn't take much imagination to understand why and she'd been perfectly fine with it.

Something was different this morning, but she couldn't say what had him acting out of character. She took another look at him and noticed the shadows under his eyes.

"It will always bother me, until the day I die," was her quiet reply.

"You were healed," Fili insisted with a frown.

She nodded. "By the best. But it leaves a mark on anyone who lives through it."

He shook his head and his gaze grew solemn. "I'll never forget. It was an awful promise I had to make."

"You know I couldn't trust Kili," she said softly. "Besides, I doubt  _I_  could have done it if the roles had been reversed. How could I ask him to do something I couldn't do myself?"

Fili sighed heavily. "I understood why you asked me, but had I been forced to follow through, it would have torn me to pieces. I doubt I will ever have to face any task that difficult again."

With a smile she put her hand over his, pressing it reassuringly. "Good thing then we crossed into Lorien before I was hit."

"Anyone who questions your loyalty should know what you did." He twisted his hand around and gripped hers, pressing tightly as he slowly brought their joined hands to his metal-clad chest. It was cold under her skin and she frowned, her eyes drawn to his torso. He was wearing a cuirass, she realised. Chain mail. Next to her he placed a helmet with a quiet metal scrape, one she hadn't noticed before that had been in his hand.

With increasing concern she took in the way he was dressed. Fili was more protected than when they had taken on the dragon, she suddenly realised. He was expecting a fight. She swallowed hard and raised her eyes to meet his steady blue gaze. This was all wrong, she thought, and her stomach decided in that moment to start churning. She curled her fingers trapped in his hand and he tightened the grip in response, and she knew he was not going to let her walk away from him.

Something must have happened that she was unaware of. If an outer threat was about to descend on them, one she hadn't heard of yet, it shouldn't be Fili standing here like this. Not the future king. It should be Kili bringing her such news. But he had been gone since the evening before, when with a smile he had kissed her forehead and had told her to not wait up because he could be late.

"Where's Kili?" she blurted with an alarmed voice.

A heavier gait reached Mari's ears. She glanced over Fili's shoulder and met Dwalin's sincere gaze. Fili slowly released her hand as he turned towards the older warrior, positioning himself between Mari and the approaching relative. She couldn't help notice that his hands rested on his swords and that his usual jovial swagger was nowhere to be seen. Dwalin's eyes missed nothing and though he didn't change his pace, he grew tense and hawk-eyed.

"Good morn," Dwalin greeted them quietly. Far too quietly.

Fili gave him a short nod, but offered nothing else.

"I have been ordered ta escort ye ta see the king, Miss Mari," Dwalin continued formally, looking straight at her.

The blond heir was already straight as a spear, but he somehow managed to square his shoulders even more.

"Why?" he demanded, and Mari glanced at him, wincing at his tone, even if it was logical. Fili could hardly take on Dwalin and live, but he outranked the older warrior, and he let Dwalin know he meant business with his armour and his manners. The only one in this mountain ranked higher was the king himself, the one Fili was going to replace one day.

Dwalin hesitated for a moment, studying the blond man who was looking every inch the crown prince he was.

"Yer brother has been arrested fer treason, and the king has reason ta believe he has co-conspirators." His voice was heavy and weariness was clearly visible in his face.

Mari's lungs deflated and she stared at Dwalin in disbelief. Fili's words seemed like they were spoken at a great distance and as they reached her, they had ceased to mean anything to her. She closed her eyes. Thorin's escalating paranoia and aggressive behaviour had been troublesome, but despite his increasingly erratic behaviour she hadn't expected something like this to happen.

"No!" Fili's voice cut into her consciousness and her eyes snapped open. "You know this is complete and utter madness. It has to be stopped."

"He's yer king! Continue and ye will face tha same fate as yer brother," Dwalin growled, standing very still, like carved in the very granite of Erebor itself. Mari drew a deep breath as she studied him. Like Fili, he showed signs of being off kilter too, at first glance most noticeably in the lack of weapons. Grasper and Keeper, his axes, were missing from his back and he wasn't carrying his war hammer either. As she focused on his face she realised he too seemed drawn, but it was of a different kind than Fili's. Here was a man doing his duty, but one he didn't believe in.

Undeterred Fili continued his protests. "There are no others that are as loyal as Kili and myself, save you and Balin. The fact that he is accusing Kili of treason is proof enough that he's not himself. If we allow him to go through with this, we'll soon have a rebellion on our hands, led by Dain. I can't say I would blame him."

Mari slowly scooted from her position and slipped down to the ground. It was all wrong, she knew it was, but Fili and Dwalin were about to manoeuvre themselves into corners they wouldn't be able to get out of without significant loss of face, or some kind of aggression, one which would end in serious injury and possible death. She couldn't watch that happen to either of them.

"Fili," she said with a low voice. She put her hand on his chain-mail-covered arm, and began slowly rounding him as she glanced up with a reassuring smile. Fili spun towards her and snatched up her wrist in a firm grip, positioning himself between her and Dwalin again, invading her personal space to the point of almost sandwiching her between himself and the wall behind her.

"You have to try to reach him. I can only do so much, and Kili has failed," he hissed in her ear.

She ducked her head, trying to hide in his hair as best she could to keep her face out of Dwalin's sight – not an easy thing to accomplish as Fili wasn't much taller than herself, giving her very little to actually hide behind.

"I don't know if I can do anything!" she hissed back. "It's not like Thorin ever listened to me."

"Try convincing Dwalin. You're our last chance," he breathed and she shuddered both because of the air he ghosted over her ear and the grave situation she found herself in. Dwalin cleared his throat behind Fili's back and she instinctively peeked up at him, meeting his somewhat flustered glance.

"Ye might want ta consider how this looks," the warrior groused.

Fili moved a fraction to lean his forehead against hers, closing his eyes. When he pulled back she met his eyes and gave him a single nod. He stepped back and let her wrist go, allowing her to pass him to stand in front of Dwalin.

"No need to haul me off like a common criminal," she said with a lopsided smile, aiming to lighten the mood somewhat.

"Yer nawt, so ye have little ta fear," was his laconic answer. He was still intensely aware of Fili who was standing at her side glaring at him, but he allowed something of his usual manners towards her shine through, which raised her hopes.

"Dwalin, you know that's not true. Kili locked up for treason? Me being fetched like this because there are suspicions of a conspiracy? This is no fair hearing, and you know it." Thanks to her nervousness her stomach churned in an alarming fashion, and it forced her to pause and breathe with an open mouth. She closed her eyes momentarily. Her mouth filled with saliva, and instinctively she swallowed before she could stop herself.

"Oh bloody hell," she moaned and tore away from the two men as bile filled her mouth. Leaning on her hands against the wall, she heaved again and again, though her stomach was empty. Tears streamed down her cheeks and her knees were about to buckle when a solid arm wrapped around her waist, holding her upright, at the same time as a palm supported her forehead.

"Breathe slowly. Don't swallow. Spit if you must," Fili coached with a calm voice.

She snapped after air but willed herself to calm down, and slowly the reflex to vomit ebbed away. As she straightened and opened her eyes a handkerchief materialised in front of her and she blinked gratefully as she reached for it to clean herself up.

"Why haven't you told us you're sick?" Fili demanded, studying her with concern.

"I'm not sick. I've had bouts of nausea since we came to the Desolation. It's something here making me feel less than stellar, that's all." She smiled weakly. "It's worse in the mornings after being shut up in the mountain all night, but the fresh air usually makes me feel better." She reached out and patted him on the arm. "Thank you," she added and turned back to Dwalin, taking a deep breath.

"I have a few things to say, before I'm dragged off, if that's okay with you." She couldn't keep the weariness out of her voice and she wished she could sit down for a while. As if Fili sensed her exhaustion he stepped back in and steadied her, holding her around her waist again.

Dwalin studied her for long moments, and then he nodded reluctantly. Looking into his eyes she saw the inner conflict and her heart went out to him. His position was a difficult one, she could tell. Thorin was not only his king and commander, but a friend too, one he had known all his life. He if anyone would know when something wasn't right. Having to execute the orders spawned in his friend's paranoid mind, putting him in direct conflict with the young men he had raised and knew better than anyone but their mother – oh how that had to wear on him. For all his strength and capability he was powerless in this situation. Mari took another deep breath and steadied herself as best she could. She had one shot at this, and one alone.

"Thorin and I have never had the same familiarity as I've had with the rest of you. That doesn't mean it has been bad. Different, certainly, but fine. But I have watched him change, and it's not the same Thorin wearing the crown now, as we fought side-by-side with at Greenfields. Once we came here and had killed Smaug it really took a dive. You have to admit you have seen it too."

He hesitated for a while and Mari held her breath. "Aye," he finally admitted darkly, briefly averting his eyes. It was like her heart remembered it should beat again and she quelled a sigh of relief.

"People are whispering about madness, but I don't think it is, not the inherited kind. The rest of you belonging to the family are unaffected. Dain's family branch is also free of any such illness. It's only ever the kings who suffer and while it doesn't matter where they are, which could indicate a hereditary cause, it's just that – it's only the ruling king who is affected. It just cannot be 'in the blood', or someone else would be suffering from the same condition." She paused to catch her breath for a moment.

"You can see when it happens," she mused. "It's something about the eyes and how he pulls in on himself – that's when you know it's coming. I keep thinking it's like he's two people, where the Other is about to slowly take over." She shook her head and shifted slightly. Fili adjusted his grip on her and she looked up at Dwalin to gauge his reaction. He was listening intently, with half an eye on Fili, clearly not comfortable with their closeness. She really wanted to kick the older man in the shin, telling him to pull his head out of the gutter.

"Have you seen it?" she asked, pushing away the annoyance.

Dwalin stirred marginally, seemingly uncomfortable with her question. "I can't betray my king." His voice was a raspy whisper.

"No one's asking you to betray Thorin. It's not what it's about. You knew Thror. You saw Thrain. And now you see Thorin, here. Don't tell me you don't see that something is very wrong." She motioned towards the mountain. "This isn't Thorin. He can be disgruntled, quick to anger. Harsh. But he can also be generous and admit when he's wrong. And he can smile. The Thorin endlessly pacing inside the mountain right now is not that man."

"It's just too familiar for me to ignore, but I don't know exactly what's causing it. I can bet my life on that it's something from the outside affecting him, something. . . " Her eyes darted towards Mirkwood and the south and a note of pain wormed itself into her voice as she continued.

"Smaug may be dead, but that doesn't do much good if all is lost because of Thorin's increasingly erratic behaviour. The source must be found. This must end or we'll also condemn the next king to the same fate. If he even is allowed to become king. It's no secret there are those who oppose the idea of Fili's ascension." Her eyes sought Fili's and for the first time she saw fear there. She fought off the impulse to give him a reassuring hug. This was neither the time nor the place for such a display, in particular since she already was subject to slander.

Tearing her eyes from him she sought Dwalin's gaze. The instant she laid her eyes on him, she knew she had won, and her heart ached for the great warrior. On impulse she reached out and put her hand on his arm. He gave her a long look, then turned to Fili and grunted in response.

"Mahal's forges," he sighed. "This. . . " he made a helpless motion with his hand. "It's nawt as simple as ta order him ta stand down" His shoulders sagged and he looked away, blinking rapidly.

At her side she felt Fili straighten. "We must remove him. Put him to sleep. It's not hard to do. A bit of wine and some opium, and he's knocked out." It was bluntly put, though it wasn't said as if it was an order. "Once he's out, we'll lock him up in a safe chamber, while we try and find what's causing this. Meanwhile, everything needs to continue as it has, with everyone else continuing their appointed tasks. Make certain the rebuilding and cleaning up continues, and that people are fed. No plan changes."

Dwalin grunted, still not facing Fili, but he nodded.

"You'll need to explain his absence," Mari pointed out quietly.

"An attempt on his life. There are poisons that can kill us too after all. It makes it easy to explain why he's not in his halls either, recovering, since we fear someone might want to finish the job." Fili looked grim as he spoke, and she realised this had been a genuine fear of his, that Thorin would be murdered. Dwalin finally turned back to look at Fili and she could tell this had definitely been a shared fear.

"He'll need to be looked after." Her eyes wandered between them. "I think I can do some good there," she suggested.

The two men stared at her for a moment. Fili shifted his weight, throwing a glance at Dwalin, who returned it, both men being uneasy now. For a moment her nausea bubbled up again, and as she hung her head Fili's grip tightened on her. Willing her system to calm down she raised her head and turned to face Fili.

"I'll. . . try to find out exactly what's going on with him. You know I can't be anywhere near you in this situation so it's the perfect solution. I'm out of sight and out of mind. I'm also pretty expendable in comparison," she continued to argue.

Fili sighed heavily, but didn't tell her no, even if she could tell he really wished to. Dwalin shuffled next to them, bringing their attention to him. Still dejected, he pulled himself up, squaring his shoulders.

"I'll find my brother. Meet me in the armoury once she's resting," he said and his voice carried a surprising amount of resolution. The two men gazed at each other for a while, until Fili nodded at him. Dwalin tore his eyes from the blond heir and glanced at Mari, before he determinedly revolved and strode towards the entrance, leaving them like frozen, watching him leave. Mari's knees buckled as he disappeared inside, but Fili kept her upright.

"Fuck," she growled and tried to convince her legs to cooperate.

"Dirty mouth you have sometimes, sister," Fili commented blandly.

"As if yours isn't," she sighed.

"Feel like being carried inside?"

She snorted. "Not really."

"I thought you were used to it by now, considering how many times my brother has done it," he said with dry amusement.

"I think he does it because he likes to pick me up." She tried to find some purchase with her feet but her legs kept being far too wobbly, much to her annoyance.

"Yes, because being shot and otherwise mauled, and collapsing because of exhaustion and illness has nothing to do with it," he deadpanned.

"No one ever carried me around before I came here," she protested.

"And you died. Come here," he resolutely said and moved in, picking her up.

"That was below the belt," she sighed, but she didn't fight him.

"You have to be careful, Mari. Don't forget, Uncle's a warrior. And strong. He's capable of all sorts of foul play." Fili clenched his jaw as he brought her inside.

"I'll be watching myself," she promised.

"I don't like it."

"You don't have to like it, just make sure no one gets any ideas." She leaned her head against his armoured shoulder, drawing deep breaths to stave off the nausea creeping up on her again.

"Let Oin take a look at you. Please."

She groaned in frustration. "Stop nagging. You're like Kili."

"In this case, I fully support him. If it's serious you may need to leave the mountain for a while."

"Can't do that now. And if it were truly dangerous I'd be dead already." She smirked at him. "Chemistry 101. I took that course."

He huffed and glared down at her. "Sometimes I wonder if you're making those things up."

"You know that I don't. Where are you taking me?" She glanced in the direction they were heading.

"To Gisla."

She sighed deeply in relief, even if nausea was hitting her in waves now, intensified by the swinging motion of being carried. "I'm getting seasick. Are we there yet?"

"Soon," he replied with a smirk.

+.+.+

Gisla was up and dressed, and if Mari were to guess, her friend had never gone to sleep. The black-haired woman gasped as she opened the door and let them inside.

"I'm not dying," Mari quickly said and waved at Gisla as Fili crossed the floor to a chair by the fire.

"You're not doing well either," Fili said pointedly. He gently put her down, and then sank down on his knees in front of her. "Please take care of yourself."

She smiled encouragingly at him. "Don't concern yourself about me. Just make sure the mountain is still in one piece with everyone alive in it once this is over." She reached out and tugged him into a hug. "Good luck." Hesitantly he returned it and then he quickly rose, faced Gisla, and took her hand, leading her back to the door.

With a hushed voice Fili informed Gisla of the progress, as well as about Mari's condition, making it seem more serious than Mari believed it was.

"I'm still not dying!" Mari called out in protest.

Fili sighed. "I must leave. I'll send a message once it's all settled." Gisla nodded and he leaned in to kiss her.

As Gisla had closed the door behind Fili, she briefly leaned her forehead against the door.

"Just so you know, there might be some gossip about me and Fili," Mari sighed from her place by the fire.

"Doesn't matter what you do. Some people will gossip about you and Fili. And Ori. And Dwalin. And Thorin." Gisla turned around and smiled tiredly. "It's not about you. It's about them. Not liking your presence."

Mari nodded. "So, want to tell me what has happened? I take it Kili really wasn't having a late night, keeling over someplace because he got too drunk?"

Gisla sat down next to her and shook her head. "He confronted Thorin last night. Got himself locked up."

"Yeah, Dwalin told me he was incarcerated. Why didn't he tell me he was going to talk to Thorin?" There was a note of hurt in Mari's voice as she asked.

"He wanted you safe. If you didn't know, you'd just do what you usually do and have no answers if brought in for questioning."

"I was being watched." Mari sighed. "So that's why Fili showed up this morning."

"Keeping you from simply being dragged off and locked up too," Gisla confirmed. "He hoped you'd be able to say something convincing to the right person to stop this lunacy."

Mari leaned her head against the backrest. "It worked. With a little help from my nausea." She pulled her lips into a brief smile.

Gisla nodded but scrutinised her friend closely.

"Not dying," Mari said in a sing-song voice.

"So you say," Gisla said dryly.

"If there was something truly deadly here I'd be gone already. It doesn't take more than a few hours if there are deadly doses of whatever a dragon spews." Mari sighed. "Please trust me on this."

"What if it's something else?" Gisla asked. "We're not that easy to kill with poison, but that doesn't apply to you."

"Then you'd have to put Bombur behind bars. And anyone trying to poison me would use a dose large enough to knock you out, which would definitely kill me. As I'm NOT DEAD, I doubt someone is deliberately trying to poison me."

She sighed. "I think I need to eat something. Haven't had breakfast yet and I've had a tough morning. Do you have something light, like crackers? Something to drink would be nice too."

Gisla practically shot out of her chair and quickly brought out some biscuits. As Mari nibbled on one, Gisla began making tea.

"Ginger tea. Good for upset stomachs," Gisla announced as she poured it and handed a cup to Mari.

For a long while Gisla studied Mari who nibbled biscuits and sipped tea. "Do you have any idea at all?" she asked. "What's wrong with Thorin, I mean."

"I recognise the way he's acting, which is a clue. I don't know the source though, and I'm a bit at loss as of why it has exploded the way it has just very recently."

Loud banging on the door had them both jumping where they sat. Gisla drew a deep breath and rose from her chair, fearlessly crossing the floor and opening the door with the confidence of someone not expecting anything untoward. Without a word she stepped aside to let the person standing outside to step through.

Mari peeked at the opening and quickly pushed herself out of the chair, hurrying over to the door, meeting Kili as he stepped inside. The grim mask he was wearing lifted for a moment as he saw her, and as Gisla closed the door behind him, he wrapped her into a crushing hug.

"What were you thinking?" Mari chided him with a scowl on her face, as he released her. "This could have ended really badly! He's not in control of himself and capable of giving truly dangerous orders! You could have been killed!"

"Something had to be done and fast, and the only thing that would be serious enough for people to spring into action to try to salvage the situation was if either Fili or I faced Uncle's wrath. It couldn't be Fili, so it had to be me," he explained gently. For some reason he looked almost giddy as he bore the brunt of her anger, and as Mari threw a look in Gisla's direction, she noticed how Gisla was quelling a smirk.

"You really don't think I can get angry when you put yourself in danger like this?" she asked and turned back to Kili. "Of course I can!"

He burst into laughter and pulled her back into his embrace.

"Whatever makes you happy, love," she grumbled dryly, as she understood the reason for his mirth – the good old Dwarven possessiveness, which she didn't have.

"I had all but given up hope," he said and slackened his hold on her.

"Well, you've been quite good at not putting yourself in really serious situations until now," she shrugged.

"Unlike someone else I know," he replied, and Mari's face flushed red. "Which leads me to the reason why I'm here." He sighed heavily. "Mari, I don't think it's wise for you to do this. First of all, you're not well. He's asleep and when he wakes up. . . "

"He'll be furious? Yes, I can imagine. Did you persuade Oin or did you steal the opium?" Mari asked.

"He hadn't slept for days, and Oin was ready to slip the opiate in his wine of his own accord."

"And the rest? How many know?"

"Ori. Of course. Dori and Nori. Nori is out somewhere, spreading rumours among the commoners, while Dori is running the practical part, keeping servants and people with no business anywhere near the royal wing in check so as to not reveal Uncle's location. Dwalin and Balin obviously. You and I, Fili and Gisla. Bombur, since the kitchen needed to be informed, or at least the one responsible for running it. That means Bofur and Bifur knows as well. The guards Dwalin trusts. That's it. None of the servants brought here from the Iron Hills have been let in on this."

"Gloin?" Mari arched her eyebrows.

"Balin has called him in, but I don't know if he's been told yet, and either way, he doesn't have a task in this particular venture. Not much he can do really. His work will not change simply because of this, but he still needs to know."

Mari nodded. Gloin was feisty and would not take lightly to being excluded.

"I'll just pick up a few things I need-" Mari begun, but went quiet as Kili grabbed her shoulders tightly, gravely gazing at her.

"He'll be livid. Under normal circumstances he would be able to contain it, but he has lost his sensibility. Completely and utterly. I never thought I'd say this, but we cannot rule out that he could actually harm you."

"I know-" Mari made a new attempt to speak.

"He's chained up, Mari."

She stared at him with her mouth slightly ajar. "You. . . chained him up?"

"We took his boots and chained one ankle. He can't reach the door."

"I thought you were going to keep him confined. . . "

"We don't have the people to keep up the security required to simply lock him up. We can't risk an escape attempt."

She drew a deep breath and blew out the air, squaring her shoulders despite his grip and put her hands on her hips. "He can't wake up alone in such a condition."

Kili started looking desperate. "He could. . . despite being chained up he still can. . . you could do nothing. . . " He went quiet and ducked his head.

"He can't reach the door, you said. Right?" she asked. He gave her a small nod. "Then the door is the safe place. If it gets too bad, I can leave and come back, but he can't wake up alone. Someone must be there."

A hammering on the door interrupted them. Kili moved himself and Mari away from the door as Gisla opened it to receive a message, which she quickly read.

"I'm called to Balin's office," Gisla said and turned her head towards the other two. "Kili, you're asked to join us as soon as you can. No lingering. It's Fili's own words."

Mari gripped his hands, pried them from her shoulders, and tugged him towards the fire. "He can't reach me," she whispered and looked intently at Kili. "He can yell, curse, threaten all he likes, but he can't do anything. If he throws anything, I'm out of there. I'll be fine. You on the other hand must be with Fili because he needs all your backing or we'll have chaos here. You're good at this. What's more, you're well-liked among Dain's people and Fili needs that."

She put her hand on his cheek and smiled. "Come and see me when you can. I'm quite sure Thorin would appreciate seeing you as well. It was the Other who imprisoned you, not Thorin."

"I promise I'll come this evening," he replied.

"I must go," Gisla announced, and Mari and Kili turned towards her. Mari nodded and glanced back at Kili.

"Come on. Let's do this." She smiled encouragingly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Travelling the Greenway south.

_The Greenway, Minhiriath, June 2940 TA_

The sun was blazing, scorching hot, slowly burning the landscape around them. Two weeks into their journey with relentless sun and very little shade to speak of had made Mari re-evaluate hot summer weather.

She was down to a thin white oversized shirt and shorts she had crafted out of a pair of trousers. Her boots were hanging on her pack and the stirrups were crossed in front of her. A thin blanket saved her thighs from being turned red and blistered by the leather saddle she was in. On her head she had a straw hat she had managed to remember to bring, not so much for the sun as for any potential rain which she had hoped the very simple bonnet-shaped hat would keep from her face.

As usual, the Dwarves seemed to have an easier time with the elements. They had made some concessions to the heat, and just as she, they drank more water, but otherwise they seemed unaffected by the conditions. When she asked about it, she got laughter for answer at first.

"We were forged by Mahal and were never meant to stray far from a blast furnace," Fili exclaimed cheerfully. "But we tolerate most kinds of weather," he added.

Gisla smirked at him. "As long as it's not rain. Or a gale. Or both."

Fili grimaced and glanced at her. "We're mountain dwellers. Nothing strange with that," he grumbled and turned to Mari. "Even if I don't prefer cold, I'd rather have snow and severe cold than a deluge," he admitted.

"Do you really believe you were forged by Mahal?" Mari asked hesitantly after chewing on her lower lip for a while.

Gisla smirked, but didn't offer anything. Kili fell back behind her, and when she turned her head, looking over her shoulder, he simply smiled benignly at her raised eyebrow. Fili stared ahead with a blank expression on his face. Only Ori seemed to give her question sincere consideration.

"It's our history," Ori replied when no one else seemed willing to break the silence.

Mari contemplated it for a while. "Some archaeological digging in certain locations paired with carbon dating probably would give some interesting results for you to chew on. Pity neither is available."

Fili looked quite bothered but avoided looking at her.

"You don't believe in it." Ori turned his curious gaze on her.

"Honestly? No." She smiled at him. "Every culture has a creation myth. Fascinating, and a reflection of that culture and its history, certainly. I think, however, that you have existed far longer than the myth suggests, and you may have a lot more common than you think with the others living here too. But it is interesting that you can handle heat as well as you can. Such things don't just happen."

Fili turned towards her and his eyes bore holes right through her. "So what do you suggest is the reason then?"

"It's difficult to have a hypothesis when I have virtually no insight into your anatomy and there are no archaeological findings that could offer any clues," she replied gently.

Scrunching up his face, Fili turned towards his brother and pointed at Mari. "Is this what you're putting up with all the time?" he asked incredulously.

Kili kept his congenial smile in place. "It's intriguing, don't you think?" Mari quelled a smile at his answer. It was true – Kili would always listen with interest when she talked about things no one really knew much about in this world, and she had found that it was a good way to keep what she once had learned in school fresh in her mind. It wasn't always easy to explain things, as some of it was built on knowledge she took for granted which Kili knew nothing or very little about, but she usually managed.

Fili stared at him. "You're not jesting."

With twinkling eyes, Kili only smiled back.

"Wouldn't it be intriguing if it turned out that you've in fact been around much longer than you think? What if it were revealed that you have common ancestry with the other races here?" Mari asked, eyeing Fili, still riding next to her.

Dismissively he waved at her. "Even if that's true, there's little in common now."

Again she chewed on her lower lip while squinting her eyes. "It depends. Sometimes if two lines haven't diverged all that much they could still produce offspring," she finally said.

He turned his attention back to her and looked absolutely horrified. "Elves?" he squeaked.

"Or Orcs," she blandly pointed out.

Fili looked like he was about to fall off his mount at the thought and his pony sidestepped, disturbed by its rider's sudden tension, bringing his attention to the animal.

"Men," she added with a smile. He looked her over from head to toe, but his eyes lingered a beat at her midsection. "I'm an alien, Fili, even if I share looks with people around here. My kind was never of the same line to begin with, therefore we couldn't have diverged." There was an edge to her voice, revealing that this was not something she wished to discuss with the blond heir. His mouth formed a firm line and he stared ahead, not missing the rebuke, and she sighed.

"Then again, I have no way of knowing if I'm truly different or not." In the corner of her eye she noticed Fili turning to look back at his brother. Her curiosity was tickled and she turned to catch the communication between the two brothers. Kili's smile had faltered and his expression was blank now, under the scrutinising gaze of his brother.

"I think it would be absolutely fascinating," Ori cut in shyly, with a slight smile. "Finding out about such things," he added.

"Dangerous, that's what it would be," Fili grumbled.

"Yes. It means you might have to re-evaluate a lot of things. Change opinions. A truly frightening prospect," Mari commented dryly, earning herself a pointed look from Fili.

The conversation died off and Mari sighed and squinted at the horizon. As far as her eyes could see the landscape rolled on in soft heaves, and she couldn't even spot the green tufts of leaves she had learned possibly could be a ravine with some water streaming at the bottom of it.

She missed sunglasses. She missed cars. The only good thing with travelling in this leisurely pace was that she still had time to think about the finer details of her plan, and she tried to remember that as she longed for air-conditioned car journeys with good speakers and digital distractions when not driving.

Her pony, a stubby palomino named Holly, was a gentle animal with an even temper, but the insects following them were not and she was bitten by horse-flies on a daily basis. Again she was the more sensitive one. Horse-flies didn't seem to find Dwarves very appetising, while Mari attracted a lot more attention. It probably would have helped to have worn more clothes, but on the other hand, she feared she'd overheat if she wore more. Glumly she slowly brushed away another horse-fly and sighed at the thin layer of red dust coating her skin.

At every opportunity she threw herself into water bodies large enough for doing so, but after an hour of riding she was covered in a new layer of dust, and as the day wore on it started to itch as it mixed with her sweat.

In total they were expected to be on the road for eight weeks until they reached Edoras. The caravan would continue south towards Gondor and Minas Tirith, but the company of five would stop in Edoras, stock up and then head out north. The stop on their journey after Edoras would be Lothlorien.

Fili and Kili were anxious to reach the Iron Hills by Yule, before winter set in in earnest. They would have to winter somewhere, and the Iron Hills was their preferred place to do so. Mari hadn't said anything about that plan, but she had a feeling the brothers were being too optimistic, something she eventually found Ori was in agreement on.

"We'll be lucky if we come as far as Lake-Town," he had sighed, as the topic had surfaced one evening. "I think we should stop in Lorien. I don't want to risk ending up in Mirkwood. . . " He shuddered.

"I don't think you'll be able to convince them," Mari mused, studying the two brothers on the other side of the fire, this evening assigned to cooking duty. It wouldn't be anything fancy, but it usually was quite tasty nevertheless. In particular Fili enjoyed spices, and she watched as he added a generous amount of some dried powdery substance which looked suspiciously a lot like chilli. Kili caught his hand and an argument broke out.

Ori threw the two Durin heirs a glance, noticing their bickering too. "No. They can be as stubborn as Thorin sometimes." A slight smile creased the corners of his eyes. Fili threw up his hands and put away the spices.

"They  _are_  his nephews," she smirked, as the two continued to trade zingers. Suddenly Kili dropped his knife and lunged for Fili who made a hasty retreat, escaping unharmed, clearly having expected an attack from his younger brother. Kili stoically went back to the chopping he had been doing, while Fili taunted him, carefully moving back to his deserted position by the cauldron with a gleeful look on his face.

"They're supposed to die, aren't they?" Ori asked quietly as he followed the brothers' antics.

Mari's head whipped around and she stared at him.

"You've never said it outright, but. . . I can read between the lines."

She tore her eyes from him and stared at the ground in front of her. "If things had been allowed simply to progress undisturbed, yes it's likely, but it's impossible to say what will happen now. Things have been different from what I knew from the start, and. . . there's no way to tell what my presence is changing – or not changing."

He nodded. "Was I in that tale? I mean, more than just a mention that I exist?"

Her face lit up with a smile before she looked back at him. "Yeah." She nodded. "Yeah, you were. Almost as much as those two." Her eyes darted to Fili and Kili who were laughing at something, temporarily not fighting.

"So what do you think will happen then?" Ori prodded.

"I don't really dare to make any predictions. It depends on whether I can persuade certain key people to do things that are dangerous. If it were just a dragon, it would have been almost easy. Well. Not easy, but a nicely defined plan on a manageable scale. But what kills those two," her eyes were trained on the young men on the other side of the camp-fire, "and Thorin isn't a dragon. And it's no small matter to stop that from coming down on Erebor."

Ori stared at her and she could tell a shiver went up his spine.

"Galadriel. She's the key." Mari smiled. "If she is willing to listen, there is hope."

He all but imploded, his head sinking and shoulders hunching. "That's not going to work, is it?" he said with a sad and longing voice.

"I know what you think of her, and she's worthy of enormous respect, no doubt about it, but. . . " the corners of her mouth quirked upwards, "We'll see. You better stock up on paper and coal." Her smile widened and she nudged him with her shoulder. "We're going to an amazing place and you will want to record as much as you possibly can."

Ori couldn't help but smile in response. "Is it as beautiful as they say?"

"Yes. Yes, it definitely is," she confirmed with sincerity, though she was still smiling.

The caravan was a fairly large one, with about a hundred pack ponies and ten merchants, five guards and themselves. When Mari joined the train of animals and Dwarves slowly making its way south, habits had already been established, with the Longbeards bringing up the rear, and the others, Broadbeams all of them, dotted along the strung-out line of ponies. The positive aspect was a certain amount of privacy. They could chatter freely with each other and the slanted looks the Broadbeams aimed at Mari were kept at a minimum.

The drawback was the dust. The back of the train was inevitably the dustiest and she had begun using a handkerchief over her nose and mouth as they set in motion in the morning, before the line had stretched out and the ever-present wind scattered the worst dry dirt the hooves tore up. She was still coughing and sneezing though as soon as the wind abated, grumbling about dying before old age from silicosis, coughing up her lungs.

Real privacy was a thing of the past though. It was worse than in the winter they had lived through, in Mari's opinion. The many layers that had protected her against the elements had also given protection against people's scrutiny. Now everyone was constantly reminded about the fact that she wasn't a Dwarf. What the Broadbeams really were thinking she didn't know, but they were aware of her presence, that much was obvious. Not surprisingly, they were particularly guarded around Kili, but they threaded carefully around all of them. Fili and Kili ignored the situation like it didn't exist and Mari ascribed it to them not only being Longbeards, but also Thorin's nephews and his heirs. She realised she faced real privilege for the first time, and she wasn't sure how she felt about that. Naturally she had known, but it was different when actually getting a taste of it.

+.+.+

Carefully she slipped down on the ground. Slamming into the ground would make her feet ache after so many hours in the saddle so she had quickly learned to take it easy when dismounting. Before her feet found purchase, familiar hands wrapped around her waist, slowing her descent. With the turf under her soles the arms attached to said hands circled her body and pulled her into a tight embrace. Scratchy stubble brushed over her hair and she could tell the wearer was smiling, which didn't fail to put a smile on her face as well.

"Have to look after Holly," she reminded him.

Kili let her go and without a word he helped her take care of her pony. As the equipment and packs were stacked and ready for the morning departure, he caught her hand with a grin.

"Come on," he mouthed and set in motion, leading the way out of sight of the others. They had stopped at a slight depression in the rolling landscape, evidently with water near the surface as shrubs and even windswept trees had populated it. It was quick work to slip out of sight among the boulders and vegetation, but fairly soon Mari dug in her heels, pulling him to a halt.

"We can't go off too far or we'll be lost once it's dark," she warned.

"Don't worry. We camp here every time we pass. Good place. There's water in a spring just where we stopped and it's decent if one is hit with poor weather. Gives good shelter. I've scouted it many times so I know my way around," he replied with a grin.

She raised her eyebrows. "Is that so."

"Yes, it is." He closed the distance between them and slipped his arms around her.

"And you were intent on giving me a sightseeing tour, then, I suppose?"

"In a manner of speaking."

Mari huffed a laugh and buried her face in Kili's shirt collar. "This is a bit reckless," she murmured. "Funny I should say it, but we don't know if we're safe here."

He sighed. "Perhaps I got a bit carried away for a moment. But the prospect of having you alone with me for a bit. . . "

"Not that I don't understand," she cut in apologetically.

"But we both know better." He slowly pulled away. "Let's do some proper scouting first then." With a smile he set off again, keeping her hand in his.

...

"So tell me about Tharbad," she demanded, looking up at the evening sky where the first stars had become visible in the east.

"Fairly large town. It straddles the river Greyflood; divided in three parts, East bank, the Island and the West bank, linked by bridges. It's the only place where anyone can cross the river, which of course is the reason for its prosperity. We will need to pay a toll to pass." He lazily reached for something at his side and fished up a shirt, only to drop it again.

"Who lives there?" Glancing to her left, she watched his continued fumbling.

"Men mostly, but you find all sorts of people there. It's an important hub out here. It may not look like there are a lot of people living in these lands, and out here on the plains it's mostly nomads you find, and they aren't that many either. Along the river it's another matter." He dropped her shirt on her belly and kept searching the ground next to him.

"The merchants will most likely want to stop for a few days for a bit of business." The long piece of linen cloth she used instead of a bra these days landed on her belly next.

She raised her head and peered over his chest. "No sign of my shorts?"

With a snort he held up the cut off trousers in his hand. "I still can't believe you did this."

"Back home I'd use fewer clothes than I do here." Reaching out, she snatched them out of his hand. "The bloomers too?"

He handed her the short legged version in a thin linen fabric she had made sure to procure before she left the Shire.

"You should consider covering up when we enter Tharbad. It's run by Men and they would consider your way of dressing as offensive. You can show your arms, a deep cleavage and shoulders, but legs is a touchy matter."

"I have seen the looks. The Broadbeams aren't entirely comfortable with it either." She made a face.

"It's complicated. No, we don't dress the way you do, true, but it's not offensive as such. We're not bothered by the heat like you are. It's more about the differences between us which are so apparent when you wear the clothes you wear."

She closed her eyes and held back a sigh.

"They're just not used to meeting non-Dwarves."

With a snort she sat up and pulled the shirt over her head and then turned her head towards Kili, looking down on him where he was stretched out on the grass.

"They side-eye Gisla too, and she's definitely a Dwarf." Sticking her feet into the bloomers and pulling them up her legs, she continued, "Don't make excuses for their opinions and behaviour." Moving around, she got on her knees and pulled up the bloomers. She climbed to her feet and stepped into her shorts as well, then folded up her binder into a neat package.

Next to her Kili quickly dressed too, then reached for her. "Expect to find a lot of eyes on you when we enter Tharbad. Men's women don't dress like you at all, so even if you cover up, you will attract attention. Coming in company with us, even more so."

"It would be a good idea to enter after dark," she proposed.

"It would. Fili has already been making such demands."

She nodded and then smiled. "I hope you realise that this is the first real town outside of the Shire that I'm going to see."

"Bree is technically a town and outside of the Shire," he reminded her.

"A cluster of houses behind a wood palisade in imminent need of repair isn't my definition of a proper town."

"Tsk. Elitist. Making demands on poor towns to reach a certain standard to be recognised by the Lady Smith," he smirked.

She cracked a smile. "You don't like Bree much yourself."

With a quiet laugh he leaned in and caught her lips. "It always rains in Bree," he mumbled between kisses.

She hummed. "Right now I wouldn't mind some rain. A proper down-pour."

"It could wait until we're under a roof in my opinion." He released her and they began trekking back to the camp.

"It's hot and dusty. Cooling down and being washed off would be nice."

"We'll enter Tharbad in a couple of days. They have nice public baths there. I'll take you to one."

Even in the growing darkness, her smile was obvious. "I'll hold you to that."

+.+.+

In the flat landscape it was easy to spot Tharbad as they approached; its wall and roof tops were visible for many miles. As Fili had requested, they entered just after the sun had dipped below the horizon, and the narrow streets and alleys were quite dark as they slowly moved towards the part of town catering to travellers and caravans. Mari had put on her boots and her hooded cloak, arranging it over herself to hide as much as she could of her own person. It had caught the attention of some of the Broadbeams, but they hadn't asked about it.

They all helped storing the goods in the allotted warehouse and tending to the ponies. Within the hour they were finished, leaving them with the task to find shelter for themselves. Mari was astounded by the surroundings. Tharbad was not what she had expected. The district they were in had a series of squares, linked by reasonably wide streets, all lined with establishments for human and animal accommodation as well as warehouses, everything towering three or more stories above their heads. There naturally were plenty of alternatives for anyone hungry or thirsty, from large halls with long tables and benches, open to the street because of the warm weather, to tiny stalls in nooks and crannies, sometimes only with a keg of ale or a large cauldron over a tray of coals.

It was quite crowded. The last travellers were arriving for the night, while some, like themselves, were looking for a place to stay, and everywhere people were milling about, standing or even sitting on whatever they could find. It was well lit. The establishments themselves had lanterns, but the streets and squares had lanterns too. In the streets they were cleverly hung on the façades, and on the squares they were stuck on lamp posts.

Mari curiously peered at it all, keeping her hood up, not aware of the smile curving the corners of her mouth upwards. It had been such a long time since she had seen anything like this, and she had to admit that it was riveting. She had enjoyed the village life the Shire had offered, but this town had proper city vibes, and she was a city girl at heart after all.

Fili and Kili led them to a smaller inn on a side-street, away from the rowdier atmosphere closer to the squares. The room they were given was reached from an exterior corridor facing towards an inner yard, and had fairly large windows facing the street as well as six beds. It seemed clean and was reasonably spacious, hardly luxurious, but well furnished.

Kili stepped past her and gave her a nudge. "Be thankful it hasn't got bunk beds," he said with a grin and claimed a bed by dropping his pack onto it.

"Rest assured I would have been on a top bunk by now if that had been the case," she smirked and claimed the bed next to his. At his raised eyebrows she explained, "My grandparents used to rent a cabin in the mountains and we'd go there on holiday with them, mum and I. Small place, all rooms but one had bunk beds. There were usually a number of cousins and aunts and uncles too, and it was a mad scramble to claim the top bunks."

"And the room that didn't have bunk beds?" Ori asked.

"Double bed. And no one touched that. It was my grandparents' room. They were paying, after all." She smiled at the memory.

Fili claimed a bed and then quickly crossed the floor to the window, taking care to not let his shadow reveal his position. After having carefully studied the street outside, he turned back to the others.

"No gazing from the window. Close the shutters in such a way that you don't reveal yourselves. Take care as you step outside and keep an eye out for anyone following you. Be careful not get lost." His tone was commanding and his face grave.

"Yes dad," Mari mumbled under her breath as she opened her bag, picking up clean change.

Fili winced. "Mari, it seems safe, but we can't be certain."

She looked up at him and with a small sigh she gave him a tired smile. "Fili, you don't have to worry. I grew up in a town much larger than this, in one of the more busy neighbourhoods. Cities I understand. It was much harder to figure out the countryside and forests for me, than dealing with the dangers in a busy place like this."

He nodded slowly. "It's still a new place for you."

"It is. Which is why I have been as careful as I have been, keeping a very low profile." She raised her hand and patted him on his arm. "I'm in need of food, sleep and a bath, and not necessarily in that order. I'm sure we all do."

Kili slipped in behind her and put his hands on her shoulders and looked at his brother. "And I have a promise to keep. Unfortunately that will take us elsewhere for a while."

Mari turned her head to peer at him with a wide smile. "I like the sound of that," she grinned.

"By all means, go! Leave us!" Fili shooed at them dramatically, and then smiled. "We'll have one up waiting for you if you're late. The usual code."

Kili only continued to grin at Fili, pulled up the hood on his cloak and caught Mari's hand, leading the way to the door.

The bath house didn't look like much from the outside – an ordinary two-storey building in the common half-timbered style, lit in the usual manner. Only a hanging sign revealed this was in fact a bath house and its name. Inside it became clear this was a place for those who wished privacy. As they entered, they were instantly met by a young man with a large set of keys at his side and they were ushered further inside without questions. Within minutes they were in a fairly large chamber clearly meant for some serious cleaning. On their short walk they had only glimpsed a few other customers, but Mari had no doubt it was a busy evening based on the faint buzz of voices reaching her ears.

She took in the interior as Kili talked to the servant and settled the monetary part. Again it wasn't luxurious, but it was well kept, spacious, and comfortable – and it was pleasantly scented. Along one wall there were screens set up and as she peeked around them she realised there were in fact doors behind them, open to the inner yard which had been turned into a garden. It was simple, but it was done with taste, as with everything she had seen so far.

The door closed behind her and she turned and noticed they had been left alone.

"We have the place the entire evening if we wish," Kili said and unhooked the clasp on his cloak and took it off. "I also thought it would be a good idea to not have to think about food. I for one am hungry and don't feel like waiting for hours until I have anything to eat." With a grin he hung the cloak by the door.

"You can order supper to be brought here?" she asked.

"Anything. Doesn't matter what time of day, from light snacks to elaborate affairs with far too much to choose from." He toed off his boots.

"Good thinking." She nodded approvingly.

"Thought you'd not be opposed to the idea." He sank down on a bench and aimed his gaze at the room. "You can have help with the bath if you want to, a servant, massage. . . and the garden is not for rambling about in and they have people to make certain it stays private. Doors are locked and if you need something, you simply pull that string." He nodded with his head at a string by the door, disappearing into the wall just under the ceiling.

"Wow. It's fancier than it looks. I mean, it doesn't look lavish after all." She slowly walked back towards where he was seated and dropped down next to him, slowly taking off her boots as well.

He shrugged. "Looks can be deceiving. No, there are no gold and gems here, but everything is done with care."

She let her eyes slowly wander over the room again. "I always thought you'd actually prefer a more ostentatious kind of environment, if you could choose." Glancing at him she smiled. "Considering all the tales about the grandness in Erebor."

Kili breathed a laugh. "I'm quite certain Uncle does. On the other hand, he's careful to not raise people's envy, so while he does have a certain standard in Ered Luin, it's certainly not what it could have been, and most likely was, in Erebor."

"Fili and I didn't grow up with that. Mam cared about comfort and if you think about it, the forge is simply a Dwarven version of a comfortable Hobbit smial." He sighed. "I sometimes think it also was Mam's attempt at countering any of the madness my grandfather and great grandfather suffered from."

He motioned in the general direction of the room. "It's pleasant and private, meant to feel welcoming. I like it that way."

"I like it too." She smiled at him.

A simple supper arrived and after almost inhaling it, Mari scrutinised the place and the amenities until Kili grew tired of her meticulous inspection and convinced her to actually do what they had come for.

Though the part of town they were in wasn't as busy as when they had left their inn earlier in the evening, there were still plenty of people about when they headed back. Relaxed and tired, they didn't hurry, even if they didn't linger. They didn't talk, but used the wordless communication they had developed between them – a nudge, a raised eyebrow, smiles, a slight shake of the head – little things to convey their thoughts and observations.

As they turned into the street where their inn was located Mari suddenly realised they were being watched. A cloaked figure quickly withdrew in the corner of her eye, hiding in the shadows as she glanced in its direction. Slowly she reached out and took Kili's hand, which landed her a sideways glance. She slipped closer and breathed, "We're being followed."

Kili didn't turn to look, but pressed a kiss on her temple. "How many?" he asked.

"I only saw one." She left it unspoken that there could be others, anywhere, even on roofs, and that they could be ambushed at any moment. He already knew this.

Surreptitiously they scanned the street and the houses lining it as they pretended simply to show each other some affection, but neither could detect any danger. They slipped through the doors to the inn, but instead of heading to their room, Kili led the way to a staff door opening to a narrow alley. From the darkness in the alley they watched their shadow, now hiding in a deep doorway, attentively spying on the inn they were staying in.

"It's a Man," Kili whispered. "Let's surprise him a little." His eyes gleamed as he flashed white teeth at her.

"We need to know why he's been following us," Mari replied warningly.

He nodded. "For money?"

"Of course. But I want to know whose money."

Slipping out on the street behind a rickety wagon passing them, they made their way towards the cloaked stranger. As the wagon passed the hiding place opposite their inn, Kili was by the stranger with his sword tip pressed under the spy's jaw before the spy even reacted. Mari was right behind, stopping just within reach, keeping a keen eye out for any unsavoury defence attempts.

"How about you telling us why you followed us this fine evening?" Kili asked quietly, studying the stranger intently. He, because it was a young man, stared at Kili with eyes betraying his fear, then swallowed hard.

"Please don't kill me!" the young man whined.

"You know, it doesn't take much smarts to figure out that it may not be the best of ideas to take this kind of job," Mari said, tilting her head as she spoke. "People can become very nervous when they find out someone is shadowing them. We could have shot you dead with the bows we carry on our backs, no questions asked."

The young man's eyes nearly rolled back into his head.

"Love, don't frighten him more, if you please." Kili kept his tone jovial, pretending to admonish her at the same time as his eyes swept over the street.

"I'm simply teaching him a lesson in surveillance work. The downsides." She smirked.

"Now lad, why don't you simply tell us why you're here?" Kili raised his brow askance.

"P-People are i-interested in you," the young man breathed.

Kili nodded. "That I understood. It's the reasons I'm concerned about, lad."

The young man swallowed hard again, his eyes darting between them.

"You're a native, aren't you?" Mari asked.

The young man began nodding but stopped with a wince as the sharp tip dug into his skin.

"I'm quite sure your mam warned you to not mix with shady characters. But you're poor, and the money looked good, isn't that so?" she continued.

He whimpered.

"And you haven't been paid yet, have you?" She made a quick survey over the street as she waited for his response.

"No. . . " he whispered.

She sighed. "And you won't be either." Her voice betrayed her weariness. "You'll be dead before morning."

The young man's eyes bulged and he looked like he was going to wet himself. Kili watched the scene with interest, wondering what Mari had up here sleeve.

"Listen." She sheathed her sword, keeping her movements to a minimum, and dug out a small pouch, pouring out some of its content in her hand. Among the coins gems gleamed in the faint light and she picked up a couple of them. "See these? I know exactly what they can buy you. A farm upstream. A way out of the misery here, not to mention the mess you have created for yourself by taking this job."

The young man's eyes were the size of saucers now as he stared at the precious stones.

"My conditions? You tell us exactly who hired you, anything they said and any other details about them you can recall. Then you take your family and hide while we seek these people out. . . " She stepped closer, staring at him with cold eyes. ". . . and kill them. If you don't take this offer, we kill you and throw your body in the river."

If the young man could have, he would have backed through the wooden door he was pressing his back against.

"A fairly good offer, if I may say so," Kili piped up.

"Yes," the young man whispered.

"What was that? I didn't hear you." Kili pressed the sword tip harder against the skin.

"Yes!" the young man squeaked.

"Let us relocate to a less conspicuous location, shall we?" Kili continued and sheathed his sword too, then gripped the young man's arm in a vice like grip. "If you run, we'll use you for target practice. Now come along."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is not holidays in Middle Earth, as Mari is slowly finding out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to remind you that it's worth looking into the appendix tag on the Tumblr blog Torunwrites for all sorts of information that I'm not fitting into this story as such, and on occasion I'll slip a spoiler or two as well. I'm open to asks as well, if there's anything that is unclear. I'm tagging posts so if you're using xkit or the like you can easily avoid what you might not wish to read, and I put up warnings too.

_Tharbad and The Greenway, Minhiriath, June 2940 TA_

"What took you so long?" Gisla asked as she let Kili and Mari into the room they shared, at the inn located in the Merchant District of Tharbad.

"We ran into some interesting people," Kili said with false cheer, though at Mari's slanted look, the fake mirth disappeared.

After removing bow, quiver and cloak, Mari shuffled across the floor and dropped down on her bed, then slowly toed off her boots. Gisla watched her with increasing alarm.

"What happened?" she asked, crossing the floor as well, sitting down on Kili's bed opposite Mari.

Kili made a half-hearted attempt at following them but stopped half-way as Mari recapitulated the events. "We had a young man following us. We caught him and found out who hired him, went to see them and got rid of them. In the process we picked up a message we think is fairly important, though we can't read it. We'll hold on to it though, in case we run into someone who can."

"It's in Black Speech," Mari added with a toneless voice. "I think."

Gisla studied Mari for a while, processing what she had just learned. "You got rid of them?" she asked.

Mari raised her eyes and met Gisla's. "Yes." She waved at Gisla. "They were not the instigators, just. . . hang-arounds." She sighed. "Thugs are no different no matter where you are. You know what this reminds me of? Bikers. Hells, Bandidos, Outlaws. . . " Raising her eyes she paused, studying Gisla and Kili's blank faces. She drew a deep breath. Though she saw no point in explaining motorcycles, explaining the phenomenon as such seemed like a good idea.

"Bikers are. . . well, gangs. Involved in shady and illegal businesses. Anything really, though it goes without saying that the more profitable something is, the more likely you are to find their hands in that cookie jar. Drugs, extortion, trafficking. . . that'd be slaves, basically. They will go to great lengths to protect their interests and now and then wars between groups erupt. Nasty things. They all work the same though. At the top you have a club running the business, and they tend to hand out the more risky tasks to hang-around gangs hoping to become prospects and eventually official members. The blokes we stumbled over tonight gave me a distinct gang vibe, but they were not very chatty so we had to take them out before we learned anything useful."

Gisla drew a shaky breath. "You simply headed off on your own and took care of a deadly threat?"

"We didn't charge into anything blindly," Kili retorted defensively, shifting his weight. "We could handle it. And we did."

"Can we postpone the quarrel until morning?" Mari asked, shifting her gaze between Gisla and Kili. "I'm neither in the mood nor do I have the energy for it. I'm virtually falling asleep this instant."

Kili closed the distance to the bed, removed her pack from the foot end and gently helped her get out of her clothes before he pulled a sheet over her. She caught his hand as he straightened his back.

"Please. Don't go," she whispered, and stared up at him.

"I won't. I just need to wash myself before I sleep." He smiled at her and she let him go, closing her eyes.

Quickly he got rid of his weapons and cloak, and stepped over to the wash basin. Gisla trailed behind and came to lean against the wall watching Kili start washing his hands and face. Her mouth formed a firm line as she saw the water turn pink.

"Nothing I haven't done before," he said in a low voice as he noticed the look on her face.

"It's one thing defending yourselves against Orcs and Wargs when they attack. Did you just go in and. . . cut their throats?" Gisla kept her voice low and leaned in as she spoke, shooting Mari a brief glance.

"One of them came up from behind. Nearly skewered Mari." Kili's voice was without inflection. "The others were dead before they could do anything," he continued. "Her doing. Shot them on the spot."

"Mahal, Kili!" Gisla gasped, staring at him with wide eyes.

"I've had better nights on town," Kili said and wiped his hands and face on the linen towel next to the basin. "I'm thanking the Valar for the inches being in my favour this evening."

Gisla reached out and put her hand tentatively on his shoulder as if she expected him to flinch away, then tugged him in to rest her forehead against his. They stood for a long while like that, with Gisla lending her wordless sympathy and support.

"Go," she urged him as she slowly pulled away. He nodded and drew a shaky breath, turned and slowly made for the bed, tugging off the shirt and dropping it on the floor by the beds. Though he fumbled slightly, the trousers quickly followed suit and then he slipped into Mari's bed, wrapping his arms around her. Gisla watched them for a while before she sought her own bed, extinguishing the light.

+.+.+

"We can't let the two of you out alone even for a few hours without you ending up in peril, can we?" Fili sat with his feet propped up on a chair, balancing a mug of tea on his leg while he reached for another rusk, buttered it, and then took a crunchy bite.

He had awakened to the sight of Kili and Mari sharing the narrow bed Mari had claimed the evening before, and when he made a comment about it, his bleary-eyed wife had told him they nearly lost Mari the night before. It had stunned him into a frozen silence, until Ori had hauled him out of the room, leaving the remaining three to continue sleeping in peace, while they passed time wolfing down breakfast and watching people come and go. Well, Fili watched people coming and going, mulling over how to broach the subject once the others had risen. Ori silently devoted this time to his notebook, ignoring the signs that Fili was fretting.

"To be fair, we didn't plan it," Kili retorted warily. Mari didn't so much as look up at him, but sat staring at the simple breakfast in front of her.

"I don't want to you to face something like this alone in the future. None of us should." Fili allowed himself to reveal the complicated blend of love, fear and anger, for Kili to see. Though Kili didn't appreciate being mothered, he always accepted Fili's distressed care. He turned his eyes to Mari. "Just the thought of how close this was. . . " He sighed deeply.

Mari finally raised her gaze, looking pale and guarded. Like Kili, she didn't appreciate being coddled, but that didn't mean they shouldn't tell her they cared. He was again struck by how weak the link was that he had to her – illogically weak. It was simply not possible to communicate the same way with her as with the others and he didn't quite understand why. Though Kili and Mari had grown quieter with time, they still chatted much more than he and Gisla did, as if Mari simply didn't understand or see what was plainly obvious to the rest of them.

"I don't want to lose a sister," was the not-very-eloquent plea tumbling out of his mouth. It was the truth, though, one he'd stand by.

Her eyes went unnaturally large and Fili realised she was about to start crying. Not the effect he had been aiming for.

"Fili!" Gisla cut in sharply, glaring admonishingly at him. He looked helplessly at his wife.

"No, it's fine," Mari sniffled and put her hand on Gisla's arm, then gave Fili a watery smile. "Thank you."

Fili gave her a long look. Was it perhaps because he was Thorin's heir? He had seen a lot of odd behaviour in his presence over the years and he knew the relationship between Thorin and Mari was strained. And that was putting it mildly, from a Dwarven perspective. It could be why it was so difficult to find that natural closeness with her, that he had with the others. "The curse of being who I am. Easy to think I'm like my uncle," he sighed out loud.

"I don't," Gisla said curtly.

A real and mischievous smile lit up Fili's face as he turned to her. "Well, at least not in certain situations."

She aimed a rusk at him, which he dodged, while the others snickered quietly.

"It's not your uncle," Mari said with a low voice. "It's what you will become in time. Even if that's not your responsibility yet, you are expected to be prepared to shoulder that, possibly on very short notice, and you've always known this. If that didn't do something to how you think and act, it would be strange. And I for one expect it."

Kili and Fili glanced at each other. "Responsibility does not mean difficulty being close to family. You haven't seen the familial side of Uncle," Kili sighed. "Well, not much of it. He's never been much for very boisterous displays of affection, but he wasn't always as distant as he has been lately."

Mari's brow slowly climbed higher as she looked at Kili. "After I arrived in the Shire."

"It had already started when you came here. Not your doing." Fili shook his head at her.

She nodded and sighed. "No, that was a bit. . . pretentious." With her index finger she traced the rim of her mug, round and round, lost in thought.

"So. . . these people you encountered last night, is that threat eliminated, or should we look for a hasty departure?" Ori asked, bringing the discussion back to the more pressing issue at hand.

"I don't think we need to leave Tharbad this instant, but we should be observant." As Kili spoke he leaned over the table and picked up the teapot and poured himself another mug of the golden beverage. "I think they were mercenaries. Bounty hunters. I'm fairly certain the message we snatched up will confirm this. We need to stay alert no matter where we are in the future."

Fili's expression darkened and he started looking downright morose. Kili threw him a cursory glance and picked up his mug after setting the teapot back on the table.

"And of course, scout the camp-sites thoroughly," he added.

"Which you didn't do the other day when we stopped and you disappeared for a while," Fili retorted in a clipped tone.

Kili leaned his elbows on the table and held the mug with both his hands, focussing on the lukewarm beverage in his mug.

"Believe it or not, we did scout the surroundings quite meticulously. First." He slowly sipped his tea.

"And it's not like you did a sweep to make certain nothing was lurking somewhere," Mari needled Fili. "Or you would have known where we were."

Fili sent a glare her way, clenching his hand into a white-knuckled fist.

"Come off it. I'm not guilt tripping you here. We did what we had to and all is well," Mari sighed, and looked at Kili, who steadily returned the gaze.

"Conclusion, no immediate threat," Gisla interrupted. "Good. We have a few days here still, though, and we need a few things, provisions not least. I say we concentrate on that for now. We can always go back to sulking around a table if we have time to spare."

Mari snorted and sent an amused glance at Gisla, who smirked back.

...

They divided the tasks between them and headed out into the busy streets, split up in two groups. On Fili's request he and Mari formed one, and Gisla, Ori and Kili made up the other. In mild confusion, Mari watched the others march off before she turned towards Fili.

"Keep up!" Fili called out to her, and she hurried her steps to do so. The street was fairly active and as they closed in on the nearest square, it became downright crowded. Horses and ox-pulled carts and wagons with or without canvas, reminding her of archaic images from the Wild West, occupied the middle of the street while pedestrians wisely kept closer to the walls of the buildings.

There were wooden walkways on the larger streets for those traversing the town on foot, which she assumed was much needed the moment it started to rain. It had the added benefit of keeping traffic separated, though she found the elevation a bit exaggerated. Being vertically challenged made it something of an endeavour to brave the walkways when they were this crowded, but on the whole it was acceptable, even if she had a vague feeling of being eight again.

"I have realised you need to learn a few things," Fili exclaimed as he lead the way, with Mari trotting half a step behind, keeping an eye on the big folk, as a Hobbit would have said. "Complacency will not serve us in the long run, and you must become used to dealing with a lot of things you haven't previously before we reach Erebor," he explained, keeping the tone light.

"Not just fighting?" she asked with a smile.

"That will keep you alive and breathing, which is a basic requirement if you're ever to make it to the destination." He threw her a quick look and a grin. "But once we're there, other skills will be required. Perhaps you'll need them before we even get there."

"So this is Fili's tried and tested political science studies? Isn't Ori's book enough? I have read it quite thoroughly, you know." Her smile was easy enough, but there was something watchful in her eyes.

"Ori gave that book the correct title – an  _introduction_. You'll need more. A lot more.  _I_  am waging on your being accepted eventually. And you'll not marry just anyone, Mari, but the second heir to the throne, a prince." The jovial smile never left his lips though he gauged her reaction in the corner of his eye. To his surprise she nearly deflated.

"You wager. . . " she started saying, and then chuckled, but it had no mirth in it. "The perks of knowing you'll eventually be the one giving the orders."

"Something like that," he agreed carefully as he tried to make sense of the tone of her voice. "Though I think my uncle will agree to it."

"To be honest, I try not to think about that. About you being royalty, I mean." There had come a tension over her frame he hadn't seen before and she looked uncomfortable.

Fili's buoyancy faded. "Though I appreciate the fact that you're not concerned with status and accumulation of possessions, it also means you have a tendency to shy away from things you  _must_  deal with henceforth. Once this is all over, it will be part of your everyday life, and while there will be private moments and doors that can be shut, you can't escape the responsibilities that come with the status you'll have."

Ducking her head, the seconds stretched into strained silence. As he was about to speak up again, she finally nodded. "Yes, I understand," she sighed. "I know nothing about such things."

His smirk was back on his face. "Well, your behaviour reflects back on me, so it needs to be remedied," he teased. Just in case he threw her an assessing glance, which she met with a smirk of her own.

"Of course, your highness," she replied with mock sincerity.

He quickly dug his elbow into her ribs, to which she replied by crashing into him, hip first, sending him momentarily stumbling to his left. They grinned at each other and continued onwards.

"Firstly, Men don't care for us. Though the Elves are arrogant and don't hesitate to let us know what they truly think of us, they do at least acknowledge us. Oddly enough, they are capable of showing some sort of manners, something a vast majority of Men seem incapable of. This means we avoid buying from Men and turn first to friendly businesses."

"Friendly businesses? You mean Dwarven businesses?"

"Of course," he nodded.

"There's just one problem here. I'm not a Dwarf. You are and probably are recognised too, but I look like a Man, even if I'm smaller than most." Mari quickened her pace as they rounded a corner and she had to dodge a wheelbarrow.

"True. But you forget something. The pattern my brother so cleverly came up with, the one you have on everything, speaks loudly to any Dwarf. It reveals exactly what you are, in particular, in combination with the braids in your hair."

"And people really would care about that?" She couldn't keep the doubt from her voice.

"They better, or they will answer either to me or my brother." Fili almost growled the words and he flashed a scowl at the surroundings. "We shall see. I'm going to let you do the talking anyway."

There was a lot of staring, hemming, and humming, though Mari managed to coax the Dwarves they encountered into selling her the goods they needed. It was clear, though, that it all would have been a much easier process if Fili had dealt with them. When he was spotted by the craftsmen and merchants, they were quick to finish their business and begin to grovel, which didn't go down well with the heir. One of the few who wasn't fidgety, snickered as he detected Fili leisurely leaning against the wall outside. Fili smirked back at him. He turned back to Mari and gave her a once over with a knowing look.

"Give Kili my regards," he said jovially.

"How would you know. . . ?" She furrowed her brow at him.

"You come here with him," the craftsman glanced at Fili, "wearing such a pattern, particular braids,  _and_  that bow on your back?" He smirked and nodded at the recurve bow peeking up over her shoulder.

"As I'm a well-informed individual I happen not only to know our heir here is married but who he married, which means the only other alternative is his brother. Of course another archer would turn out to be his One, even if she's not. . . one of ours." With a shrug he continued, mumbling under his breath, "Which isn't that unusual anymore."

He turned sharply towards Fili. "Watch yourselves. All sorts of unsavoury characters are out and about. Not so much Orcs and Goblins, but Men, driven into desperation by the long winter. They can be bought for just about any purpose and don't much care who they serve."

"As we have already discovered," Mari murmured, squinting with her eyes, not really ready to deal with the events the evening before just yet.

The craftsman sighed and nodded. "Expect more to come. Mind you, I don't know anything specific. I just hear some talking here and there."

Fili nodded slowly and reached for his pouch but the craftsman made a negative gesture. "No. I will not charge an heir of Durin for a plain warning."

"You have my thanks," Fili said sincerely.

"You're welcome." With a nod he went back to his work and Fili and Mari continued onwards.

...

"Please tell me Kili didn't do it on purpose," Mari said after a while.

"How do you mean?"

She tilted her left shoulder so the bow and quiver was clearly visible to him. "Why he insisted on the bow?"

Fili sighed and smiled slightly. "While he generally will favour and defend his main choice of weapon, no, his insistence you should favour it too was based on logic. You lack height and weight and should avoid hand-to-hand combat. I was in complete agreement with him on this."

"But he did come up with the personal pattern."

"Yes. Yours and ours are similar to each other, but if it's anyone's pattern it really resembles, it would be our mother's. It links you to her, though not as blood relation. Fitting, in my opinion." He studied her for a moment. "Why does it irk you?"

Mari's shoulders sagged minutely and her eyes found the ground just before her feet. "It's almost like an instinct for me. I sometimes feel branded and I don't appreciate feeling like I'm someone's. . . property. Kili and I have had this discussion already and I understand it's different for you, but it's not that easy for me to get used to."

Fili slowed his pace until they came to a halt at the entrance to a quiet alley where they were relatively undisturbed by the bustle around them.

"We grow up thinking we're one whole person as we are. If we're lucky we find someone we fit with, but that person does not merge with us, they simply share everyday life with us. I don't own his soul and vice versa. Except. . . I really do own Kili. But he will never own me, because I can never have that. . . physical connection. I'm incapable of forming one." Mari studied Fili intently.

His jaw dropped, and he stared at her in disbelief.

"You didn't know, did you? Just how different we are? We are very different. Every day we both have to remember how different we are. It has become easier, but it still makes me uneasy when I feel like my own self is slipping away from me, like just now, because of that simple comment."

Fili's eyes strayed away from her, landing on a couple of kegs stacked on each other, as he processed what she had told him. It was so easy, he realised, to forget that she wasn't like them. He had long since ceased to actually see the things setting her apart. With Elves and Men, and even the Hobbits, it was easier. The former had the height while the Hobbit's oddness from the knees on downwards was hard to ignore.

But something about her choice of words grated on him. Branded. Property. And the look on her face as she spoke of it.

"I sense there's something more to this," he said and looked back at her.

Mari nodded. "Our history has been the history of blokes. My female ancestors were basically possessions, their lives regulated with such detail, making it abundantly clear they had no rights at all. Women were completely in the hands of fathers, brothers, and husbands. Only as a widow could we enjoy some kind of freedom, but some cultures demanded that the women died with their husbands." She pulled a deep breath. "It's revolting just thinking about it."

Fili sighed and put his hand on her shoulder, pressing it lightly. "I hope you understand it's not our way to treat women like that."

A quick smile lit up her face. "I know. And as I said, I understand the physiology behind your reactions and traditions, and it's not the same. But I have some demons to fight here."

"I'm not unaware of the ways of Men. What you describe seems quite close to the reality here in Middle Earth. It's just that. . . the way you generally act and what you have told us of your past, I didn't expect your people's history to be so similar to the ways of Men here. Barring any actual differences in basic functions, I did not realise. . . " His voice tapered off. "It explains a lot that I didn't understand." And it did.

He suddenly realised why it was so difficult to find the common ground he had with the others and why Thorin and Mari were at odds the way they were. She could not see beyond his uncle's shell and as she was unable to forge the attachments they did, she lacked the insights into much of their behaviour and reactions, something that might have helped, at least somewhat.

For all the time he had known her, he had learned more in a few morning hours about the woman his brother loved than he had up until that point. A small smile played on his lips as he considered these new insights. Her nudging him slightly brought his attention back to her.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked. "You're smiling."

"Oh, I was simply amused by your reserve. It seems familiar, somehow."

Mari rolled her eyes, but couldn't hold back a small smirk. "Ah, you and your clandestine ways. Of course you'd not be put off by some reticence."

"Hardly. One more place, then we're done for now," he declared and headed back into the street, making certain she joined him.

"Good. I was becoming quite tired of this," she sighed as she followed.

+.+.+

Mari didn't look back as they slowly left Tharbad behind, once more setting out for the south on the Greenway. Aside from the fact that she felt like someone was watching her at all times, the days prior to leaving had been a struggle as she found herself becoming Fili's de facto assistant and secretary. He had unnerved her with his attention and his attempts at adjusting to the things he had learned about her. On top of this, he had decided she needed to learn Khuzdul.

Ori had made huge eyes as Fili had announced his decision, and Mari had squirmed, shooting him dark looks. Gisla had immediately picked up on Mari's discomfort and gently prodded Fili to temper his commanding attitude. Kili quietly reminded his brother of Mari and Thorin's quarrels, where she refused simply to be ordered around.

"I may have put braids in her hair, but she's not one of our folk," he pointed out.

Fili looked over at Mari, who mulishly looked back at him, and he barked a laugh, startling them all.

"I apologise," he finally said, shaking his head. "I think it's important for you to at least learn some rudimentary Khuzdul. It's not a decision like any other, to allow a non-Dwarf to learn our language, but I'm claiming the right to make that decision. The commanding tone is not aimed at you, Mari, but at the others. I don't want any arguments over this." He turned his eyes to Ori and gave the mild mannered Dwarf a long look. Having glared at Ori long enough, he turned back to Mari and grinned.

"And that look you just gave me?" His eyes quickly darted to Kili. "You two are quite alike in some ways. Some of the deadliest glares ever seen come from you two," he chuckled.

And just like that, Khuzdul had been added to the curriculum. Mari secretly dubbed Fili Mr. Taskmaster.

"We have about three weeks until we pass the Gap of Rohan. And after that? Many months on horseback until we reach the Iron Hills, not to mention our final destination!" Fili declared cheerfully as they stopped for luncheon on the first day after setting out again. "Imagine how bored you'd become if you didn't have anything to do!"

"About as bored as I was before we reached Tharbad?" she replied glumly.

"Precisely!" he exclaimed, grinning widely with all his dimpled charm.

"Are you sure you're not the one who is bored?" she asked, to which he simply laughed.

"You'll see. Within a week you'll thank me," he retorted and handed her a piece of bread and some soft white cheese.

As the boredom of the great Dunland plain set in, she grudgingly found herself appreciating having something more substantial to do, in particular since it chased away the gloomier thoughts of the future.

Eventually the Misty Mountains became visible, slowly growing closer with each passing day. They were a reminder of one individual she would prefer not meeting if she could help it – Saruman.

It was a ridiculous idea that she needed to be concerned. He was most likely sitting in his tall tower mulling over something he considered actually worthy of his attention, completely unaware of her existence. There was a small chance he'd heard of Fili and Kili, but even that seemed far-fetched. The wizard in Isengard most likely had his nose in a book or whatever White Wizards did with their time. Just as well, she decided.

They camped by the Fords of Isen, on the eastern shore, after they had crossed the river. It was a wooded area, quiet, with fine-grain sand on the banks contributing to the almost-quaint atmosphere. Sitting on the turf edge with her feet on the sand, she couldn't see the mountains, and most definitely not Orthanc, for which she was thankful.

Even if she couldn't see the great tower built at the foot of the Misty Mountains, she still glanced in its direction every now and then, lost in thought – this evening being no different. Her ears picked up on footsteps approaching, from feet belonging to someone who didn't intend to hide his presence. She peeked over her shoulder and spotted Kili heading towards her, carrying this evening's meal in his hands.

Settling down next to her he handed her a bowl with a stew, which she accepted with a small smile. They ate silently for a while, both content with the solitude.

"It's nice seeing something other than the vast plains for a change," Kili finally said.

Mari nodded slowly as she chewed. "Pity so much death will happen here," she replied solemnly.

Kili's spoon stilled and he turned to stare at her.

"Many decades from now. Those people aren't yet born," she added and scooped up some stew.

"I have been thinking," she continued after swallowing some more spoonfuls of stew, "I never understood why I came here and why I was altered. Well, I woke up shorter anyway." A brief smile quirked the corners of her lips.

"The good thing has been that I blend in better. I would have been short for a Man, standing out for that reason, but I would have been too tall for the shorter kind of people living here, like you or the Hobbits. It kind of makes sense that I shrank. However, that leads to the question, is my presence here a mere coincidence? Was I brought here, or did I somehow. . . make all of this come true myself?" She waved at the river and the trees around them with her spoon.

"I'm very much alive thank you very much. And I have been the past seventy-six years too, of which I remember the majority," Kili retorted dryly.

A knowing smile spread over her face. "But  _I_  don't actually know this, and unless  _I_  can prove your existence, you could still be a figment of my imagination – or this could be the Matrix, the Middle Earth edition. I can't trust anything anyone says to me."

He looked puzzled, and dropped the spoon in his bowl slowly. "Matrix?" he said.

"It's from a story in my world. We could potentially create a reality that doesn't exist other than in our minds, using the technology we have. Just imagine if all of this were just a dream, created by someone else," she explained and then shook her head. "Perhaps it doesn't matter if something is real or not, as long as it feels real, but that of course depends on the purpose of creating a fake reality."

Kili gazed at her with his brow slightly furrowed.

Mari smiled mildly at him. "Philosophical questions. Sometimes difficult to wrap your head around, but think about it for a while. Would it matter? Would it be wrong? And why would it be right or wrong?"

He drew back slightly and his puzzled eyes drifted towards the sand and water and she could see the wheels turning in his head.

"But to be honest, I think it's real. It's something odd about all of this though, and travelling through here has made me think about it a lot." Another spoonful of the stew made it to her mouth.

"Why this place?" he asked and refocussed on her.

She swallowed and nodded upstream. "There's a tower up there. I'm sure you've heard of it."

"Vaguely remember something about it." He shrugged.

She arched her eyebrows at him. "Saruman the White, does that ring a bell?"

"One of the wizards, yes." It was difficult to determine if he really was uninterested or if he was trying to hide that this was something he hadn't paid much attention to while growing up, even though he should have.

"Orthanc is Saruman's humble abode. Important fellow; wizard yes. Not just any wizard, but the head of the Istari, and also one member of the White Council, of which also Gandalf is a part, as are Lady Galadriel and Lord Elrond."

He paused the spoon on the way to his mouth and darted a look at her. "Why would passing Isengard bring up these thoughts?"

For a while she made patterns in her stew, trying to find a simple way to explain. "The Istari are. . . servants of the Valar. You think of the Valar as gods. I don't know what they are or exactly what they are capable of but. . . " She sighed. "I'm here, am I not? Clearly altered. Not just anyone can accomplish something like that. Though I haven't got the slightest idea why, I suppose there is a reason why all of this is happening. The only ones I can think of who could accomplish something like this would be the Valar. It seems though that it's up to me to figure out what I'm supposed to do here."

Her eyes drifted upwards. "I don't think I'm the only one. I wonder who they could be, but it seems I'm not supposed to find out. There's so much that I don't understand about this."

She looked back down into her bowl. "I doubt I'll ever find out everything, but I would appreciate gaining a bit more insight." Slowly she continued to eat.

"And what if someone finds out about you and why you're here?" Kili asked, definitely concerned now.

"Depends on whom. I don't fear Galadriel for instance." She smiled reassuringly. "And I'm small, nothing special, not even magical. I should slip under the noses of practically everyone."

He ate quietly for a while, as he eyed her. "You could already be discovered. We never did find out why those Men were so interested in us."

"The message will reveal that in time. Right now, though, my bet is that it's you they were after. It's drawing close, you know. Things are stirring."

A shiver went up his spine. "The way you say it. . . "

"It frightens you?" She smiled mirthlessly. "Good." With a slight shake of her head she continued, "This reminds me of a conversation I had with Gisla once. Almost a year ago. I alarmed her as well."

"You want us to take it seriously, the threats we're facing," he nodded.

"Yes, I do," was her simple reply, which she didn't elaborate on.

...

They finished their meal in silence, washed their bowls and utensils in the river and then headed back to the camp. As the last strip of light disappeared in the west, they settled down for the night in their bedrolls, gazing at the stars in the firmament above.

"We're soon in Edoras," Kili murmured. "The weather is holding so we'll make it within a week."

Mari didn't immediately respond, which prompted him to turn his head to look at her. She breathed deeply and then glanced at him.

"It shouldn't feel like such a watershed, but it does. We still have about a month after leaving Edoras until. . . "

"Lothlorien," he whispered and turned his head back to look up at the stars.

"It's so important," she sighed.

"Fili is anxious and doesn't wish to stay longer than absolutely necessary."

"It will have to take the time it takes. If we don't have the Elves in Lorien on our side, the consequences may be dire. I doubt king Thranduil is open to any suggestions of mine."

"We're hard-pressed for time. Winter dictates what we can do." He tried to sound casual about it, but he was utterly failing.

"So it has nothing to do with, well, Elves? And not just any Elves but High Elves and a certain lady your lot tend to be wary of?" She glanced at him and saw him squirm.

"I'm torn," he admitted. "You must understand what it was like growing up with Uncle and Dwalin. They abhor Elves. It's a passionate hate. Mam is not at all like that, and she did curb the worst of it, but we still got to hear enough. I'd not say Fili shares their opinion, but he will always be wary, bordering on distrustful. Some will probably forever be on the list of people never to trust or forgive."

"Thranduil." She paused. "Legolas?" she asked.

"Who?"

"Thranduil's son."

Kili snorted. "Like father like son."

"Not always. And people are capable of change you know. Even Elves." She gave him a genuine smile that made him pause.

"I take it he will change, judging by the look on your face."

"Neither confirming nor denying," she replied lightly with a smirk.

"You tease!" Reaching out, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a tight embrace with an exaggerated growl, restricting her movements and making her wheeze slightly as she giggled.

"Kili! Stop it!" she squealed as she unsuccessfully attempted to escape.

Snickering he loosened his grasp though he didn't let her go completely. "You drive me up the wall sometimes when you turn furtive like that!"

"I thought you of all people would have an easier time with that."

"I was never one for secrets. I honour our own. . . well, for the most part. Perhaps not so much with you. At all actually." He sighed. "No, I prefer when I don't have to think about what I can and can't say."

She wiggled around to find a more comfortable position. "Trust me, you don't want to know if you find it difficult to keep things to yourself."

For long moments he was silent, and she tried to pull back so she could look at him, but he wouldn't let her. "I have already concluded I'm supposed to die. Fili too, isn't he?" He sighed. "And Uncle. . ."

Mari's breath hitched and she stiffened at the sudden change of direction their conversation had taken.

"I'm walking right into it, even if I have gathered that this isn't the way it's supposed to happen, am I not? I might never see Legolas change. Nor learn what it is in Mirkwood you fear so much." He sighed wistfully.

"But I trust you, love. With my life," he murmured with a warm voice. He kissed her hair and then snuggled closer.

She ran cold. "You shouldn't do that," she managed.

"Why?" He sounded genuinely confused.

"Because I have to make decisions based on the good of everyone. I may be faced with a very difficult choice. If saving you means this world will burn, I can't do it."

He repositioned them and their eyes met, and he gave her a small smile. "I know. Which is why I trust you with my life. You'll do what you think is the better thing, not just for yourself." His smile faltered. "I can't imagine what it would be like to have to make such a decision and watch it happen. You're brave to even think you can."

Panic rose and gripped her throat so hard she felt like she was suffocating. All her fears came crashing down on her and her eyes widened in distress.

"Mari, are you well?" he asked, looking concerned.

Of course I'm not, you oaf, she wanted to shout at him. How could she be at the thought of what was at stake? On impulse she started thrashing around, freeing herself from the blanket and his arms. Startled, Kili didn't attempt to hold her back but instantly let her go, staring incredulously at her. She froze for a moment, staring back at him, panic still surging through her system screaming at her to run and hide. She could not do this. Whatever madness that had compelled her to think she could and should act in any way, it had to end.

Kili reached for her and absently she noticed just how strong he'd have to be to move the way he did, as it looked like he was defying gravity – a silly thought that distracted her for a second. She knew just how strong he was by now after all. The spell was broken as his fingers wrapped around her wrist and she yanked back, only to realise she was captured in a vice-like grip. Like an animal stuck in a leg-hold trap, she struggled to free herself, darting desperate and frenzied looks at the dark surroundings.

"Mari, you can't run. I won't let you." Kili's voice was alarmed though firm and he somehow had managed to sit up, while retaining his grip on her. With unexpected speed and force he pulled her wrist towards him which made her fall in his direction. Before she could catch her balance he had wrapped his arms around her, gathering her as close to himself as he could while subduing her flailing limbs.

"Listen Mari. You can't see properly in the dark. You don't have clothes on. No weapons. Not to mention you shouldn't go off alone. Please, calm down," he hurriedly said in her ear. "I won't allow you to endanger yourself like that."

"What's going on?" the alarmed and suspicious voice of Fili asked.

Mari stopped fighting and began crying instead, whimpering as she hung her head. She was truly pathetic. Kili was absolutely right and she was an idiot. An embarrassing idiot. If this wasn't proof enough of her stupendous derangement, she didn't know what was.

She heard shuffling and voices, such as Kili quickly trying to give some account of what had happened and Fili's short questions, until Gisla cut them both off and told them to shut up. Her strong hands gently pushed the hair out of Mari's face and cradled it, nudging her to raise her head. Unwillingly Mari opened her eyes and met Gisla's very concerned gaze. Mari's vision blurred as tears overflowed her eyes and streamed down her cheeks, and she closed them again.

Gisla sighed and scooted closer, wrapping her arms around both Mari and Kili, leaning her head against Mari's. She didn't say anything more but simply sat there, holding them while letting Mari cry. From somewhere something made of linen materialised, wiping her face and she was quietly asked to blow her nose. Ori, she realised, and she did as he asked.

Slowly the tears started to ebb and the panic vanished, leaving her completely drained, like she had been running for miles. Still Gisla simply held on, not pressing the matter and apparently Kili decided to follow her lead, as he stayed quiet too. With a deep breath Mari moved her head slightly, fighting the heavy feeling making her mind seem dull and her skull weighing a lot more than it should. Gisla unhurriedly sat back, letting go, and Mari felt the linen cloth against her face again. When she tested Kili's grip on her arms he slackened his grip enough for her to free them and reach for the rag and hold it by herself. He didn't let go of her though. Shifting himself and her around a bit he still enveloped her, holding her tightly.

"Do you want something to drink?" she heard Fili ask and she finally pried her swollen eyes open. She nodded in reply and within seconds she had a mug in her hands.

"I panicked," she rasped out. "I didn't mean to cause such a scene. . . I'm sorry."

Kili sighed and kissed her hair again. "I sincerely apologise Mari. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," he murmured.

"Some bloody expectations, to say the least," she breathed.

"I think you need to tell us what happened, because this is not making any sense," Fili interrupted.

"Temper, love," Gisla said gently.

Kili quietly repeated the conversation, then turned to Mari. "Fear is good. It makes you think. It shouldn't rule you, but the day you don't feel fear, is truly a day to dread."

A strange strangled sound had her looking to her side, where Fili sat staring at his brother in astonishment. She turned her attention back to the mug in her hands.

"I just don't know what I'm doing. I sort of have a plan, yes, but it could. . . fail. And I could get you killed along the way. By taking you along with me, the chances are Thorin might end up in a situation where he's killed. And what if what I'm doing sets something in motion that I could never foresee that is much worse? It's impossible to think of everything and every possible outcome. I could bring so much death and destruction down on everyone. . . "

Kili pressed his lips against her temple, tightening his grip on her again.

"Mari," Fili slowly interjected, "We're all capable of doing that. Remember that Kili and I, along with Ori, were supposed to join Thorin. Even if we had done so now, it's quite possible we could have acted in ways that could have altered the course of events in unpredictable ways. Even if we don't do anything, that could change things. What if we had stayed at home? What then? That was an option too. Maybe that would have made it even worse. We have no way of knowing."

"It's not on your shoulders alone," Ori added quietly. "There are many who could do much more, and probably will, and you can't control them. You do what you think is right. It's the only thing you can do."

Gisla found her hand and pressed it tightly. "We're here. No matter where this takes us. We help each other."

Mari nodded mutely, unable to find any words for what she felt.

"Are you hungry?" Kili asked. At Fili's raised eyebrow he scowled. "What? No one sleeps well on an empty stomach!"

Smiling tiredly she shook her head. "No, I'm fine. Thanks though." She threw a look at Fili. "He's right, you know."

Fili rolled his eyes, but grinned. Before he rose he leaned forward and tugged her into a tight hug. "Sleep well." With a long look at Kili, which she couldn't begin to decipher, he got on his feet and headed off to his bedroll.

"Fili," Kili called out after him and the older brother turned towards them. "You could. . . You know. . . " Kili motioned lamely at him.

With a quick knowing smile, he gathered his bedroll and carried it over to where Kili and Mari had laid out theirs. Gisla and Ori followed suit and soon they were all settled, closely together. Mari, Gisla and Ori quickly fell asleep, but Fili could tell Kili was still awake, though he wasn't tossing and turning as usually was his habit when sleepless. Fili reached out across Mari's sleeping form between them and found one of Kili's hands and squeezed it gently. His brother sighed and pressed it back.

"I'm glad you're here," Kili whispered.

"Where else would I be?" Fili replied with a smile.

Kili snorted quietly and shifted around, pushing Fili's arm back. For a moment Fili was vaguely hurt, before he realised what Kili was doing; repositioning himself and Mari so he could have a hold on them both. Fili closed his eyes still smiling, putting his hand over Kili's, now resting on his shoulder.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to Erebor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When it rains it pours - and we jump in time in this chapter. Make it a habit to note the date and location when you read. Enjoy.

_Erebor, the royal wing, 2941 TA, November 14_ _th_ _, 21 days after Smaug's death_

Thorin was stretched out on the bed, sleeping soundly, as Mari entered the room and slowly closed the door behind her. For a while she simply stood with her back against the door studying him, wondering how it would all end. Now, as they had arrived at this point, she realised she was afraid, mostly of failing.

She was oddly embarrassed too. It felt far too intimate for her to be in the same chamber as this man as he slept, defenceless and vulnerable. With anyone elsein the family it would have been perfectly fine, but Thorin had always kept his distance and she had never succeeded in winning him over.

They were capable of epic quarrels, but a pat on the shoulder was as close to any appreciation or friendliness Thorin had shown. She herself would usually stick to waving a greeting at a distance of several yards. Despite the situation, it made her smile slightly. He was  _the_  patriarch, and she didn't know how to handle such men, even if they happened to have become, basically, family. He obviously didn't know how to handle her either. They could argue and roar at each other though, so somehow there was a measure of trust between them. Well, not with the Other, of course.

With a sigh she quietly padded over to his bed to check on him. Dead to the world in drug-induced sleep, he seemed to be doing well enough she decided. She made herself comfortable just out of reach in an armchair and opened the book she had brought.

It was a long day. She read, threw bog blocks on the fire every now and then, ate a bit when a guard stopped by with a simple lunch. Every hour she got out of the chair to stretch her legs and lift the skin from the embrasure and allow fresh air to wash over her. Thorin slept calmly and heavily during the morning and well into the afternoon, when he slowly began moving more, unmistakably dreaming from time to time.

Eventually the thick volume sank into her lap as she leaned her head against the backrest, and she stared at the bare wall behind Thorin's bed, allowing her mind to wander. She wondered how the others were doing and what happened outside this closed-off section. It was so still and quiet here, like nothing else existed. The fading light seeping through from under the skin covering the opening in the wall told her it was mid-afternoon. She closed her eyes and smiled at the thought of Kili, who, hopefully, would turn up soon.

She woke with a start and as she straightened and looked around, her breath caught. On the bed sat Thorin, studying her. He had been awake for a while because his eyes was clear and alert. The book slipped from her lap and her clumsy attempt at stopping its flight failed. It hit the stone with a muffled thud. With a sigh she unfolded her legs, set her feet down on the floor and bowed down, retrieving it.

"So you've been banished like I have." Thorin's voice was like gravel.

Mari sat back up. "I have chosen to be here myself."

"Don't lie to me," he ground out.

She nailed him with her eyes, making certain it was clear she was absolutely sincere. "You don't think anyone could consider being here now, at your side, without being forced?"

His eyes flickered for a moment before he slowly bowed his head, averting his gaze.

"Well, I can. And I'm here and I intend to stay." Just to annoy him and to make a point she wanted to inch the chair closer, but she decided not to. Don't push it, she chided herself.

At his continued silence, she put the book to the side on a small table and leaned forward, studying him. "Are you hungry?" she asked. He snorted scornfully. "I am, so I'm going to ask for supper."

She pushed herself out of the chair and went to the door and opened it. Peeking outside she spotted one of Dwalin's men standing by the opposite wall. At the sight of her he quickly came to life and headed over to her, betraying his concern plainly.

"He's awake and I think some food would be a good idea," she said with a reassuring smile. "Send a message to Fili that he's awake and doing well, will you?"

He smiled back at her. "Will do, lass," he replied and hurried down the corridor.

It was almost disconcerting how calm Thorin was. Mari had to admit she had expected tantrums, destroyed furniture, and herself quickly exiting the room, but none of that happened. He barely spoke and he avoided looking at her. She decided not to try to engage him in conversation, but instead rather to let this evening simply pass, following his lead and being silent unless necessary.

It took a while, but eventually a knock on the door announced the arrival of their meal. Mari jumped up, swiftly crossed the floor, and opened the door. As she looked up her gaze met with a set of concerned brown eyes she was so familiar with, and she broke out in a wide smile.

"Kili!" she exclaimed and stepped aside to let him inside. The tray he was carrying quickly was set aside on the table. He reached out and pulled her in, letting his forehead rest against hers for a few seconds, humming contentedly. As he pulled back and gave her a quick once-over, he slipped his hand down her arm, catching her hand, pressing it tightly, before he turned towards Thorin. Their eyes met and they stared at each other.

Mari shook her hand lose and started setting the table, calmly and methodically, as if this were any other meal, and she even hummed a tune quietly to herself as she laid out forks and knives. She picked up the lid on the cast iron pot to have a look at what the kitchen had sent then started to cut the bread, still warm to the touch.

At the sound of soles against the rock floor, she glanced up and saw Kili slowly approach Thorin. For the second time that day she felt like an intruder as she watched the scene in front of her. Her heart clenched as she saw the forlorn look on Kili's face and how disconcerted Thorin seemed.

"How do you fare?" Kili asked quietly. There was a twitch in his right hand, as if he held back the wish to reach out.

Thorin sighed deeply and his gaze found the floor between them. "How quickly the roles can be reversed," he murmured and a bitter smile stole over his features. "I should have known something was not as it should when you simply accepted my order. That look, the grief I see as you stand here before me – I should have known."

He glanced up at Kili again. "You're no longer the guileless lad I once knew." Kili bowed his head and averted his eyes, and Mari could tell he felt the reproach keenly. "You grew up." Thorin nodded. "There's little room in this world for naïve fairness, and I have been aware for some time that you have learned that lesson. I must say though, it's a bitter medicine to be on the receiving end."

With every word Kili stiffened. The quietly spoken words were far more devastating than any loud and raucous scene ever could have been. Mari slowly put down the knife in her hand and silently slipped over to the embrasure and peeked outside. It was dark outside but she caught sight of a few stars through the torn shreds of clouds. The air was icy, and she absently recalled the snowfall during the day. Winter definitely was here.

"You didn't expect me to welcome you with open arms, did you?" she heard Thorin ask behind her back, and she leaned her forehead against the wall, closing her eyes.

"Whether you wish to see it or not, I had to act. It was either that or lose you and Erebor both," Kili replied, his voice surprisingly steady and firm.

"So you're a hero, are you?" Sarcasm was dripping from Thorin's words now, and she breathed steadily through her nose to keep her cool. His words were meant to cut, to do harm and to hurt, and it was so unfair.

"Just as my naïveté is a thing of the past, my wish to become a hero is a long dead notion. Corpses have little use of glory and I want to live. I want everyone to live. I want the mountain to flourish and our future to be prosperous. I'm not going to stand by watching our dream turn into a nightmare and end in death because of this. Something clearly is very wrong." Kili paused and she could hear him move – a slight scuff of the boots, and leather creaking. "We must find the source and end this vicious cycle, or it will swallow not just you, but my brother as well. Well, unless Dain get the better of us first. This has to end."

Mari slowly turned and looked over at them. Kili had straightened and looked as firm and determined as his words had been. Thorin sat very still, exactly as he had been since she had awakened, stiffly watching Kili with his blue gaze, though it had lost the cold bitterness. The façade was cracking and underneath there was a hint of sadness and regret. He knows, it flew through her mind, and her heart quickened.

Heaving a deep sigh he nodded, and the next moment his eyes were on her and now embarrassment tinted his skin. Despite the gravity of the situation Mari offered a small smile. He quickly looked away as if he couldn't face her sympathy. His eyes landed on the table and his nostrils flared slightly, though he tried to ignore the aromas wafting through the air. But his belly decided to betray him and a loud rumble revealed that he was hungry. Bowing his head he acknowledged defeat.

With all the dignity he could muster, Thorin begun moving, pushing himself up from the bed, slowly straightening and then carefully testing his mobility. Kili watched without interfering, and as Thorin slowly crossed the short distance to the table, Kili simply fell in behind.

The meal was a quiet affair. Considering the situation it was still much better than she had expected. Kili kept throwing her worried glances, to the extent that Thorin was unable to ignore it, studying them both with guarded curiosity.

"I'm fine, Kili," she finally said in a low voice.

Thorin huffed and rolled his eyes, He knew her well enough to know those words wouldn't be entirely truthful if his nephew seemed worried. She sighed, pausing her hands that were tearing a piece of the bread in two for dipping in the gravy.

"Don't look at me like that." She locked eyes with Thorin for a moment who unblinkingly met hers as was his habit, before she made a dismissive wave with the bread. "I've not been feeling very well since we came here. That's all."

He arched an eyebrow at her and she realised that he apparently hadn't known, since he had been occupied with being king and slipping into paranoia. He'd had a habit of keeping track of them before, once upon a time, during the long winter back in the Shire. It raised her spirits to see that trait peek out here and now.

"Don't know what it is," she concluded.

"And she won't see Oin," Kili grumbled, spearing some root vegetables on his plate with more force than necessary.

"He's been busy and I'm not dying," she retorted patiently, mopping up gravy with the bread.

Kili shot her a dark glare, while Thorin gave her a measured look.

"Could be the dragon," Thorin offered.

Mari turned towards Kili and looked pointedly at him. "Precisely," she said.

In the corner of her eye she noticed a brief glimmer of amusement in Thorin's eyes. She went back to tearing the piece of bread apart to mop up more of the gravy, while she surreptitiously studied Thorin through her eyelashes. This was too good to be true, she thought. She'd not seen him this relaxed since before Fili and Gisla married, and it felt like a trap.

Kili finished his meal and looked at them both with regret. "I must leave," he announced. "Bombur has promised to come by later before bedtime by the way. Bringing a treat, he said." He smiled briefly, but the smile faded as he looked at Mari. She reached out and squeezed his hand reassuringly with a smile on her lips.

"See you later, yeah?" She did her best to seem like a veritable picture of health and contentment. Not that he'd be fooled of course, but he had to leave and he didn't need to have stones added to the weight he carried already.

Nodding, he turned and leaned in to kiss her on her forehead, as had become his habit when they parted. He turned towards his uncle, and Thorin snorted.

"Don't you dare kiss me," he grumped, but amusement sparkled in his blue eyes. Mari snorted and Kili cracked a grin as he stood.

"See you at breakfast then, unless the sky comes down over our head." Kili cuffed Thorin lightly on the shoulder and left.

Thorin and Mari continued to eat, unhurriedly, she with a small smile on her lips.

"What's ailing you?" he asked as he had swallowed down the last of the bread.

"I don't know," she replied truthfully. "Could be anything, but nothing dangerous, I think."

"Any particular symptoms?" he pressed on.

With a slight sigh she recited the list, and he nodded as he scrutinised her. It was not an unkind gaze he turned on her and she didn't feel uncomfortable, which was new.

"The lad has a point. Oin may be a busy man, but I think he could spare a few minutes to make certain there's no malnutrition or anything infesting the mountain affecting you."

"I'll see if I can find him later," she reluctantly promised.

"You could be our canary, so this is not just about you," he added with exaggerated casually.

She smirked at him, almost giddy with delight. "Of course."

Amusement again twinkled in his eyes as he nodded imperiously, and she very nearly dropped her jaw. She had to admit she liked this incarnation of Thorin. If only he could stay. . .

He slowly began clearing the table as she considered him.

"Want to play a game?" she asked. They had plenty of time on their hands and though she was eager to try to find out what was going on, she instinctively felt it would be better to keep things light this evening.

He paused and looked down at her for a moment.

"I have dice."

"It would be agreeable," he tentatively replied with a nod. With a small smile she went to fetch them.

As she left with Bombur for the night, she did something she had never done before. She reached out and touched his arm as she bid him good night, just as she would with any of the other Dwarves that weren't among those closest to her. His graveness gave way to surprise, to which she smiled, hiding the sadness she felt. She had never considered it before, but he had to be a quite lonely person, though he most likely refused to admit it.

+.+.+

_Erebor, the royal wing, 2941 TA, November 15_ _th_ _, 22 days after Smaug's death_

Thorin watched the door open from his position atop the bed. Dawn was breaking outside, late in the morning since it was winter, and he had been awake for several hours. The night had been difficult though he for some reason breathed easier here, closed off from the rest of the world.

In the long hours before he finally fell asleep, he had done a lot of thinking, and he could admit to himself that something wasn't right. As he looked back on his behaviour he saw with clarity what had happened to him. Shame filled him. Anger. Frustration. This was not how he had pictured reclaiming Erebor. He had long since decided he would be a good king, strong enough to resist the madness.

Instead he now sat chained and locked up in a small chamber somewhere in the mountain. The only comfort in this miserable situation was that it was Fili who was on the throne, not Dain, even if that grated on him too.

Emotions raged inside. He was furious about what had happened, he couldn't deny that. On the other hand, he felt relief too. The weight that had made him feel like he was slowly drowning, rendering him unable to kick himself to the surface for some air, had let go. It still gave him yanks and pulls for a moment or two sometimes, but the difference was significant, just as when he had worn Tauriel's pendant in Mirkwood.

His thoughts had gone to her, and he wondered where she was and how she was doing. Only when they had reached Lake-Town had he understood the significance of what she had given him as their ways parted, and with a heavy heart he hoped she'd never learn that it had been for nothing. It had not been enough to keep him from slipping into madness, now locked away. Judging by what had happened to his father and grandfather, there seemed to be little hope for him now.

Mari stepped through the door with a smile and a morning greeting, and he could grudgingly admit that he wasn't opposed to her presence. She brought breakfast, another positive thing, he supposed. He nodded back at her in response to her cheerful words and resigned to the realisation that if there was a way out of this, she most likely held a key to his freedom, both from the weight on his mind and this incarceration.

"I will never be rid of you, will I?" he asked gruffly as she started spreading out the contents of the tray. Her movements slowed and she looked up. Straightening, she allowed her fingertips to rest on the table surface as she gave him her full attention.

He noticed the dark circles around her eyes and the thinness in her face. He was baffled over how this woman could be so frail. Was she ever in full health? Granted, Dwarves almost never fell ill; they bounced back quickly after injuries and handled hardships quite well. They would have to be pushed quite hard to really suffer. In comparison it seemed a miracle that she was still alive.

She shrugged. "It's perhaps not likely I'll fall victim to Orcs here, but you never know. But anyone could stab me in the back. Drop me in a shaft. Tie me up and leave me outside in the snow." She paused for a moment and frowned. "There really are quite many ways in which I could be killed," she mused. "Well, aside from the fact that I will die of old age eventually."

Slightly disconcerted he shifted forward, pinning her with his gaze. "You jest about the many ways you could be killed?"

"You know, I don't like the idea of me dying. At all. It's just that this world. . . " she waved in the general direction of the embrasure, "it's pretty deadly. Perhaps not if you stay in the Shire and grow kale your entire life, but I haven't exactly done that. We've been chased by Orcs and Wargs for more than two years now." She looked down at the table.

"But I don't trust everyone here either. In that sense Orcs are easier. I know they want to kill me. It's an easy enemy to deal with. The political shenanigans going on here? I have no idea from where the blow could come."

He resolutely stepped down from the bed and made his way over to the table, manoeuvring the chain so he wouldn't trip on it. "I heard the witch in Lorien showed you your future." He sat down.

Mari reached for the butter knife and pointed it at him. "Don't be rude. Lady Galadriel is no witch."

He huffed and spooned up some porridge in his bowl.

"Possible outcomes. I saw possible outcomes." She sat down and picked up a still-warm roll and buttered it. "Didn't say much about my death, though I have my suspicions." A lopsided smile lit up her face.

"It has a tendency to ruin someone's day to learn about it," he commented dryly.

"True. True." She nibbled on the roll and eyed the teapot. "I saw yours, though."

He froze and his eyes snapped up, and he stared at her. She reached out for the teapot and poured herself a cup, then looked up at him, feigning surprise.

"Oh, so you want to know?" Her eyes were wide as she cocked her head to the side.

"I haven't yet died on a mountainside," he reminded her.

She shook her head. "No. And you won't. There'll be no great battle out there in this time line." She gave the embrasure a quick nod with her head.

"Listen, Galadriel's pool has a tendency to show you what happens if your plans don't work out. You're reminded of the stakes. It's a bloody whip to be honest. Worst case scenario now is that out of you, Fili and Kili, only Kili lives, and he doesn't get to be king. He's exiled." Picking up the cup she took a small sip.

"Ori dies. Not straight away, but later, and it's a direct effect of you and Fili not making it and Kili being exiled. Gisla ends up joining Kili in exile. She has no children. Dis." She paused and his face darkened. "Lives until old age but not in a Dwarven community."

Thorin arched his eyebrows. "And you?"

"Never got an answer to that. Which is why I think it was a roundabout way of telling me I won't make it if you die." She sipped on her tea.

He stared at her. "What?" she asked, looking at him over the rim of her cup.

"Does Kili know about this future?"

"Well, I told him it didn't show me anything about me, which is the truth. It didn't. It's my interpretation that it means bad things for me. I have seen myself in some of what it has shown me after all, so it's not foregoing my presence."

"There are numerous questions not answered." He leaned slightly forward and his voice was demanding.

"And I didn't get any more. Not in that future. It's not like you're given a detailed account of what happens. It's a string of short scenes, that's all." Slowly she drank some of her tea and put the cup down, biting into her buttered roll.

"Nothing positive?" he sighed, and scooped up some porridge with his spoon, putting it in his mouth.

She nodded and swallowed, a smile tugging at her lips now. "Things could turn out differently. Like you living. Fili too. He and Gisla having children. Good things for all of us. I saw that too."

He slowly ate his porridge while she eyed him. "Where's Kili?" he asked.

"Impersonating Walsingham along with Nori," she replied.

Rubbing his forehead with his fingers he sighed, then made a questioning gesture with said fingers as he arched his eyebrows. "I have no idea who this Walsingham is."

"Renowned spymaster." She picked up her cup and sipped her tea again.

He sighed and dropped the spoon in the bowl.

"No, it's not pretty. But both of them are good at it, though they're moving in very different circles," she said.

"I never wanted that for Kili," he murmured and stared at the content in the bowl.

"I'm sure you didn't. But right now it's a war going on out there. Fili and Kili are quite determined to win it." At Thorin's incredulous look, she continued, "Politics is just war without guns. Without swords and axes, I mean."

He sat staring down at the unappetising-looking sludge in his bowl. At the sound of her deep breath he glanced up and noticed her paleness. He frowned. Her eyes met his and she instantly glowered.

"I'm fine," she said between clenched teeth.

Arching an eyebrow at her he watched as she was visibly fighting nausea. He went over what she had listed as symptoms as he angled his head slightly while studying her, and then quelled a sigh. To be completely honest he didn't think it was anything the dragon caused, but he was reluctant to speculate, at least out loud.

"So how do I escape this chamber?" he said instead, changing the subject.

Caught by surprise, she straightened and the glower melted away, even if the paleness stayed.

"Once we know what's wrong we hopefully can do something about it."

A flair of the familiar rage that had been tearing him apart shot through him. He smacked the bowl out of his sight and pushed himself backwards, landing with a thud on the backrest. He glared down at his hands, clenching them into fists.

"You clean that up yourself." Mari's voice cut through the red veil of anger. Slowly he raised his gaze and stared at her in bafflement. She was completely calm and unruffled, pouring herself another cup of tea. "Don't look at me like that. I'm here to find out how to break this vicious cycle, not cleaning up after your temper tantrums."

It bore down on him with full force and stripped him of any concerns or cares for this small breakable creature opposite him. "You do not speak to me thus," he rumbled, focussing on her. She's an enemy, his mind whispered. She's the reason why you're here, locked up like this. A sliver of his common sense protested, but that voice died a quick death in the hands of the flaring rage consuming him.

Like a coiled viper would have, he lunged over the table, sending it and everything on it flying. She had been prepared though, expecting something, and leapt out of the way, and the next thing he knew he was on his belly on the floor, hindered by the chain, and she was by the door, out of his reach.

He let out a roar in frustration and into it he poured all the anger and despair now flooding his mind. Slowly it ebbed away and he slumped down on the cold stone floor, resting his cheek against it. Blissful cold seeped into him, and the fire sputtered and died, and with it his mind began clearing.

With a groan he rolled onto his back and when he cracked his eyes open, two faces swam into view, Mari's and one of Dwalin's men. He wanted to wave her off, tell her to leave because he would hurt her – if not now, it would happen later. She was fast, but that thing that rose in him was cunning and would learn her ways.

His arms were gripped by hands and he realised they were attempting to move him.

"Come on Thorin. You have to help us out here," Mari urged him.

Grunting he tore his arm free from her grip and used it to slowly elevate his torso off the floor. His head swam and he had to pause.

"Get Dori," he heard Mari say. "Gloin might have a moment to spare too."

The grip on his other arm was released and he very nearly fell back to the floor, but managed to keep himself half-sitting.

"Want water?" she asked, calmly crouching before him.

He grunted but didn't nod for fear of how it would make him feel. Closing his eyes he listened to her light tread in the room, how she picked up a chair on the way to the water dispenser, filling a mug and coming back. She took his hand and guided it to the mug, putting it in his hand. He finally opened his eyes, feeling slightly less shaken. His head was clearing.

"You can't be here." He barely managed to speak.

"On the contrary. This is exactly why I need to be here. You're not supposed to be locked up with the key thrown away. Fili isn't supposed to rule. Not yet."

He shook his head. "I can't fight this."

"This is already a huge improvement. Maybe a bit too big to be honest. Hard to find the cause when it's this brief, which perhaps also is a clue in itself." She sighed and began to settle on the floor next to him, relaxing. His hand shot out, wrapping around her arm, startling her. For a second he saw fear widen her eyes and then it was gone as she realised he wasn't going to do anything.

"Don't. . . let down your guard," he hissed.

She gave him a forced smile. "You know I'm going to forget about it in about two minutes again."

Letting her go he sighed. "Yes." He drank the water and she took the mug from him, rose and trekked back to the water dispenser.

"What's it like?" she asked. She turned to look at him over her shoulder.

He closed his eyes and shook his head.

"I need to know. All of it. Even things that are embarrassing." She was back next to him, handing him the mug.

He glanced at her. It was a laughable idea that he would talk to her about this.

She met his eyes and her look was knowing, and small smile tugged at her lips. "Did you know that your sister has told me about many of your escapades from when you were growing up? I already know a lot of embarrassing things about you, Thorin."

Involuntarily he huffed a laugh and shook his head. "Trust my sister to put weapons in your hands to be used against me."

Sitting down she reached out and squeezed his forearm. "They're not weapons. They're what makes you a person like everyone else. I'm  _very_  aware of your gripes with loss of dignity – not just you but your nephews too – so I can imagine how this feels. But if you don't trust me, you're stuck here. Remember that worst case scenario I told you about?"

He stared down at the mug in his hands, recalling her words. He did not want to die, and most definitely not cause Fili's and her deaths either. But still. To tell her everything. . .

A bustle outside announced the arrival of his relatives, and in a whirl of activity he was helped off the floor and over to his bed, and the room was cleared. Mari was ushered outside by a stern looking Dori lecturing her, and he was left alone, facing the silence in this room.

Gently he pulled off the ring that had been handed him as a heritage from kings of old and began to turn it over in his hand, as was his habit. In this moment though, it was silent. It had been singing to him for so long that he was startled by how different it felt to slowly twirl it around here and now. The comfort was gone. He stared down at it, sighed and slipped it back on.

This all left him feeling disjointed and very lonely.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili makes a startling discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, read the tags. They are there for a reason. This chapter comes with a trigger warning for sexual violence.
> 
> The Khuzdul phrases used:
> 
> caragu rukhs – orc dung  
> Bundul menu denapdul - Your words are truth

_Edoras, Rohan, July/August 2940 TA_

Mari stopped short at the entrance to the inn and slowly reached out, putting her fingers on the door post, carefully tracing the pattern, carved and then painted, adorning the entrance. Her eyes sought other details on the house; the window frames, the gables and the roof, and her hand gripped the door post so hard her knuckles turned white.

Surreptitiously, Kili watched her, hiding the surprise he felt by her reaction. This was not how she had behaved as they had arrived in Tharbad, and he wondered at the difference. Her eyes had been everywhere as they had entered Edoras, and once they had left the horses in the stable she had lingered everywhere, touching and studying every detail in the architecture they had walked past. As she had laid her eyes on the gable with its carved gargoyle-like figures facing each other, crossed at the top, she had stopped short and had stared at it for long moments before she had continued towards the inn.

They managed to procure their own chamber this time. Kili had been prepared to argue with his brother about it, but there had been no need, and if Gisla's smirk was anything to go by, he had an inkling of why. Once they were in the room, Mari continued her scrutiny, gradually pivoting as her eyes travelled over every detail with an unreadable mien. Finally he gave in and asked her about her unusual interest.

"It's fascinating and disturbing at the same time," she replied and shook her head.

Kili furrowed his brow. "I'm not certain I understand."

She turned towards him, having snatched up a mug, holding it between them in front of his face.

"Look at it," she demanded, and he did. The design was simple, yet with a slightly different shape than he was used to, a vase form, and the handle was elaborately twisted, looking like a decorated rope. The rope design was repeated on the mug itself along with another one snaking its way around the bottom of the mug, somehow vaguely reminding him of the Dwarven ones, though rounded instead of the sharp geometric shapes they used.

He glanced at her and she caught his eyes, tilting her head as her gaze became piercing.

"This could just as well have come from an archaeological excavation back home. Well, aside from the fact that it's in mint condition." Her eyes went to the mug and she weighed it in her hand. A small smile tugged at her lips. "It's amazing." The smile fell away. "And. . . difficult."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he admitted, looking a bit at a loss.

She sighed and put the mug back on the table from where she had taken it. "All of what you see around you, it's brimming with details straight out of my people's past, a thousand years ago. Back home I didn't pay much attention to it." She snorted – a mirthless sound.

"That's so funny. The moment you leave your country, things you never thought would matter suddenly do. Food, everyday items, idioms – you just develop a severe craving for them. I didn't eat certain kinds of sausages back home much, but the moment I moved abroad it felt like they started calling my name. I went across the city, travelling for hours, just to get hold of those bloody sausages. And while I was at it – sweets, herring!" She laughed. "Cookies. Even soap, I bought. I was like a kid at Yule in that store."

Once more she grew serious. "Coming here was different. I still miss all those things, and more general items commonplace no matter where you go back home, but I never expected I'd start clinging to my people's history and culture. I had a first taste of it when Ori gave me the travel handbook and I saw the illustrations from Rohan. They nearly made me sick at heart."

Turning away from him, she bowed her head and her shoulders slumped slightly. That little slump reminded him of what she had lost – her home, her family, the ties to all things familiar to her – and he winced, then closed the distance between them and gathered her in his arms, holding her tightly.

"I'm glad you're here, even if it meant you had to leave your home. But if it's within my power to do so, I promise you'll have a new home, a real one, with the things you want to make it a comfort in your life." His words did not seem to have the intended effect though, as she went rigid and seemed forget how to breathe.

In near desperation he quickly slackened his grip and hurriedly rounded her, grounding her with a firm grip on her upper arms. As he opened his mouth to speak, he realised he didn't know what to say. He did not wish to have a repeat of what had happened by the Fords of Isen and he feared that no matter what he said, it would be the wrong thing. They stared at each other as he closed his mouth again.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "That's all me again." She broke eye contact and relaxed. He eased his hold on her somewhat, but didn't let go of her. "I've suddenly become so afraid. . . of life. The future." With a sigh she pressed the heels of her hands over her eyes. When she dropped her hands she stared at him with red-rimmed eyes.

"To be honest it pisses me off. I'm angry with myself. I just can't seem to learn that this is all the life I have and I have to live it. Now. I made a decision and it's just to keep going, doing the best I can."

A small smile curved Kili's mouth. "Oh, I think you have learned. Else you wouldn't tell me this now."

She smiled thinly back at him. "But I keep making the same mistake over and over again."

"You are allowed to make mistakes. We all make them. Remember what I told you about fear? Just don't let it control you, and you'll be fine."

"Who are you and what have you done to Kili?" she asked with a lopsided smile and amusement twinkling in her eyes.

He sighed and slowly let her go. "I may be quick to act without considering my own safety, but I'm not without wits."

"I know." She caught his hand and squeezed it tightly. "You're giving voice to it though. More than you used to. I like that."

"I'll keep it in mind." A mild smile spread over his face as he shuffled closer. As he opened his mouth to continue to speak, a sharp and quick knock interrupted him, announcing a visitor, one who simply threw the door open and strode inside. They both turned their heads towards the door and saw Fili planting his feet on the floor with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Why do I always have the feeling you're conspiring when I barge in on you? Why are you even here by the way?" he asked, vaguely motioning at them.

"We were having a civil conversation. You know, based on speech, forming words which, in turn, make up sentences. A communication to convey thoughts and ideas," Kili replied curtly, and Mari looked back at him with a surprised smile and her eyebrows slowly climbing up her forehead.

"Did you slip something into his tea this morning?" Fili asked and shot a look at Mari, having lost some of his usual air of surety.

Shrugging she turned her attention back to the blond intruder. "You shouldn't be barging in like that," she said, changing the subject.

He shrugged, looking smug again. "You're wearing clothes."

"And quite frankly we could just as well not be wearing any. I'm not shy as such, but I don't appreciate interruptions. They destroy the mood." She tilted her head slightly, put her hands on her hips and faced him fully.

Fili looked away, unfurled his arms, and put his thumbs in his belt as he cleared his throat. A slight flush made him frown and squint with his eyes, and Mari found she couldn't quite quell a smirk curving her lips. She glanced at Kili, who grinned widely at his brother. As if Fili felt his brother's eyes on his person, his eyes snapped back at him with a glare.

"She has a point," Kili said placidly.

"I'm heading off to forewarn some of the locals of our presence and that we need to replenish," Fili said abruptly. "Anything in particular you need, either now or for our journey north?"

Kili's grin faded and with a sigh he nodded. "Yes, there are a few things I have been thinking about." He started going through the list, but Fili quickly held up his hands.

"Not that detailed. Just a rough estimate. The things that take a while to make or get hold of."

With a shake of his head, Kili started making his way towards the door. "I'm coming along. It's always better to be present when you're doing these things."

Fili's eyes widened with feigned hurt. "Are you complaining?"

"Yes brother, I am. You always forget something unless Ori and I come along. And I like to be part of the decision process."

"I'm  _pained_  by the lack of faith you have in me." Fili looked positively outraged and threw out his hands in an emotional gesture.

Kili momentarily stopped in his tracks and gave his brother a once over. "If the River Running were made out of your tears, it would be utterly dry." He continued past the blond and gave him a shove. "Come on," he said with a sly grin.

The bickering continued as the two brothers left the room with Mari standing in it, slightly perplexed by Kili's sudden exit. Gisla poked her head inside with a smile.

"How about we take a long soak while they're out in the miserable afternoon heat doing something that could wait until the morrow?" she suggested.

Mari laughed loudly and nodded. "That sounds like an excellent plan."

"What are you waiting for then? Come along!" Gisla disappeared again.

Mari quickly dug out some clean clothes and hurried out of the room to join her friend.

+.+.+

Edoras was quite different compared to Tharbad, not just with its architecture and the way it was perched around the crest where the large King's Hall was situated, but also because it was much less diverse. For the most part the Dwarves and Mari only caught passing glances, and the lack of what Fili called friendly businesses created some challenges, but were easier to solve for Mari than for the Dwarves.

She drew puzzled looks, but in her hands money was simply money and it bought them the things they needed. To Fili's dismay she even managed to barter some, getting more value for their coins than he had managed.

Mari shrugged. "People treat better that which is more familiar than not. It's why I'm always going to fail with Dwarves, and why you will always fail with Men," she commented dryly.

The most difficult task turned out to be finding a farrier who could see to their ponies. After many weeks of travel, their ponies were in dire need of new shoes, and from the moment they entered the city they had been asking around.

"You'd think that in a land permeated with everything equine, finding a farrier would be the easiest part," Kili groused when they had been in Edoras a fortnight. "And what's worse, none of us are let near a forge where we could do it ourselves."

Mari sensed that the last part was the worst. She had often heard grumbles from, in particular, Fili as they walked through the part of town where the forges were, criticising just about everything, from the way the forges were built to the handiwork of the smiths and iron used. Some of it was justified, but some was simply disgruntled complaints. Fili felt slighted, and he was not wrong.

She had suggested she should do the rounds and try her luck, but neither Fili nor Kili liked that idea.

"A lot of damaged Dwarf pride there," she commented to Gisla one evening as they sat nursing a half pint ale each at the alehouse near their inn, after the two brothers had turned her down a third time. "I don't mind waiting and have this respite. It's Fili who is stressed and is eager to leave and if he's turning down my offer, well, that's his problem," she added with a shrug.

"And mine," Gisla retorted sourly. "His temper grows short."

"Bad?" Mari asked, eyeing her friend carefully.

Gisla snorted and gave Mari a lopsided grin. "Mostly amusing, to be honest. He's never as eloquent as when things are going against him."

Mari chuckled and raised the mug to her lips to drink. Out of habit she let her eyes pan over the fairly empty place. It was in the middle of harvest time for the cereal crops and it had emptied the town of people who were looking for extra income. Though it made Gisla and her more visible, they had not made any attempts to keep a lower profile than otherwise.

A slight sense of unease was now about to settle in the pit of Mari's belly however, as she, for the fourth time, caught the eyes of a Man lounging at a table nearby, leaning against a pillar while gingerly dangling his pint from his fingers.

He looked Rohirrim, blond, blue eyed with the more square set of jaws common in Rohan compared to the Men in Tharbad, and under the lose shirt he was wearing she could tell there was a significant bulk of muscle, more than the average Rohirrim male sported. Either he was part of a guard or had a heavy duty employment, she concluded. What made her suspect it was the latter was his unusually short hair and close-cut beard, as well as his somewhat dishevelled appearance.

Though he didn't come across as threatening as such – no glares or other insinuations – it was never a good sign in her book to catch the same male eyes more than twice. With the events in Tharbad fresh in her mind, it was even more disconcerting.

She set down her empty mug and sighed. She needed to take a piss, but she was unsure if this was the place to do it. They had planned on staying at this alehouse for a while and just spending time the two of them and this had just been their first mug, but she didn't want to land them in trouble. On the other hand, her ire was raised by the fact that she was contemplating leaving just because a man was looking at her one time too many for her taste. She had as much right to visit this establishment as he had.

"Want more?" she asked Gisla. "I'm heading to the back anyway so I can do this ale run," she explained.

"Certainly," Gisla grinned. Mari pushed herself off her seat and headed for the back first. She kept the stranger in the corner of her eye, and her unease increased even more as she noticed that he watched her cross the room, even if he didn't do so openly.

Finishing quickly, she headed towards the bar, her attention still aimed in the direction of the blond male, and therefore missing the unmoveable object that had planted himself in her path. She walked right into him, recoiled and opened her mouth to apologise.

"You're an odd little thing." The man she had collided with had pale blue eyes, clouded by one too many pints, long flowing locks, and though he was on the shorter side, he carried himself as if he were six feet tall. Just over a foot taller than her, he was looming over her as he crowded her space, and she moved backwards, bumping into a chair. She sidestepped it and continued to put space between herself and the stranger.

"Looks like a woman," he slurred with a grin. "Pretty too." His eyes roved over her.

"Leave me alone," she said coldly and turned to take another route to the bar.

"Oh, little Miss Feisty," he purred. She was just about to turn back towards him to put an end to the harassment, when he with surprising speed had his hands on her, spinning her around and pushing her up against a pillar, effectively catching her as she reached for her knives.

A moment too late she realised that he might not be as drunk as she had believed him to be. He had caught her in the exact right spot to avoid notice from the owner who was busy pouring ale by the bar, and the large pillar her back was pressed against further obstructed the view.

"So tell me love, what are you, really? Never seen your kind around here before. Not that I'm complaining." She yanked her knee upwards aiming for his groin, but he grinned widely, pressed himself more tightly against her and forced his knee between her legs, pushing his thigh firmly against her groin, pinning her further in place.

"Oh, I know your tricks, but I have a few of my own." Swiftly he shifted his grip in her wrists, holding her with one hand with his fingers digging painfully into her skin, while the other quickly ridding her of her knives in her belt. Mari struggled to free herself but to her dismay she found she was quite effectively restrained. Her assailant only snickered at her attempts.

"No use love. I have tamed women significantly taller than you. Your size  _is_  quite handy though." His free hand slipped under her shirt and then he clicked with his tongue in annoyance. "Binding," he hissed with disdain and his rough fingers dug into it to rip it away.

Red anger dyed Mari's vision and she made another attempt at fighting him off and opened her mouth to scream for all she was worth. His mouth was on hers before she could scream, but instead of attempting to kiss her he forced air into her mouth, killing any sound she made by sheer air pressure. She started hacking and coughing, ridding herself of the excess air he had forced down into her lungs. The man chuckled and with a final yank, the binding gave way, and he discarded it on the floor.

"You see, I'd never kiss you. Allowing you to bite down on my tongue? That would be pretty dumb, wouldn't it? Try to scream more, and I'll do it again. I could also hit you over your throat to silence you, but I prefer not to." He grinned. "Wouldn't want to miss out on any moaning later." His free hand fondled her and she again squirmed to escape his hands, to no avail.

"Now love, we're going to make a tactical retreat. Not far, just back the way you came, and you'll going to be quiet and obedient – that I'll make certain of."

Mari was still furious, but a ribbon of panic uncoiled in her stomach. By now she sincerely feared there would be no opening, no unguarded moment, nothing she could use to her advantage. When he jerked her away from the pillar and pushed her arms up her back, while wrapping his hand around her neck and throat, she did try again though. She aimed for him with a kick and a stomp, which he avoided, twisting her arms even more painfully and dug his fingers into her throat, killing her cry of pain with the pressure.

And then everything stopped.

"You let her go. Now."

It was Gisla, Mari realised and forced her eyes wide open, but she couldn't see her friend. Instead her eyes landed on the somewhat dishevelled male who'd she'd been keeping an eye on, leaning on a pillar with his arms crossed over her chest.

"Weren't you supposed to be locked up, Ethelmer? How did you worm yourself out of that?" he asked, aiming the questions at her assailant.

"This is none of your business, Eoric," Ethelmer growled, not easing his rather painful hold on her.

"But the Dwarf with the sword needling your back thinks it's hers. And I happen to know there are three more around who'd think it's theirs as well. Now, I can just hang back here and watch them deal with you, since you made it clear it wasn't my business in the first place." Eoric flashed a grin.

Mari's attacker was silent but kept his grip on her.

"Or you could let her go and come with me to the magistrate. It's really for your own safety because the moment those other Dwarves catch wind of this, you're a dead man. Unless you're under protection, of course," Eoric continued.

The grip suddenly loosened and Mari fell forward, landing heavily on the floor on her side, not quite managing to catch herself. Flopping over on her back she kicked out with all her strength and hit Ethelmer straight over his kneecap, and with flailing arms he tumbled to the floor.

Eoric pushed himself from the pillar and was by Ethelmer in an instant, reaching down and yanking him up again.

"Now, let's go before she finishes you off herself." Quickly he disarmed Ethelmer and handed Mari's knives to Gisla. "I'll swing by later. Just make certain no one has the brilliant idea to demand instant justice. The good people of Edoras would not like that," Eoric said to Gisla and with that he pushed the assailant towards the door, passing by the patrons now gathered at a safe distance, gawking at the scene.

Gisla dove down next to Mari, catching her face between her hands, gazing worriedly at her. Behind Gisla, Mari spotted the alehouse owner closing in, looking thunderous.

"Did he injure you?" Gisla asked.

"A few bruises and the like, but nothing more," she replied. "Help me up, will you?"

Gisla nodded and pushed her hand under Mari's shoulder blades, helping her to sit straight.

"I sincerely apologise," the alehouse owner said in a tone between angry and empathic. Mari looked up at him. "If there's anything I can do. . . "

Mari held back a snort at the cliché. Gisla snapped her head around and glared at him, making him come to an instant halt. "Yes, there is in fact something you can do. Find us a farrier who can take care of our ponies so we can leave this wretched place," she said curtly. "I think we've overstayed."

The barrel-shaped owner stilled, and then sighed. "Young Eoric who just left with that bastard happens to be a blacksmith. Good one too. Came back only this afternoon. You see, his da is-"

Gisla cut him off. "Can he deal with horses?"

"Aye. Of course he can." The owner huffed. "I'll speak with him myself."

"Thank you." Gisla gave him a short nod and turned back to Mari.

"Let's get you off the floor," Gisla muttered and started heaving Mari to her feet.

+.+.+

Fili watched the young Rohirrim blacksmith working. Eoric was efficient and had a gentle hand with the ponies, making friends with them at the same time as he took care of their hooves. It was a relief that their ponies finally was looked after, in particular after the events the evening before. On the other hand, it burned that they would simply leave, but Fili had to admit that the young blacksmith had a point.

...

Eoric had been humble but adamant, warning them off from doing anything at present with the attacker in custody.

"Look at it this way. You can always keep track of him and should he ever be in the wrong place at the right time, that's his problem. But for now, let the magistrate deal with him." Eoric had looked at Fili in earnest, showing a slight tendency at holding his clenched hand in a manner which caught Fili's attention.

"You did this on purpose! You're protecting this  _caragu rukhs_!" Kili had spat at him, his grip on his emotions finally slipping.

Fili had turned his wakeful eyes to his brother, wondering if he should tell Kili to leave the chamber. He could well imagine what was going on inside Kili, and if his brother were to lose control, it could end poorly. On the other hand, in his state, trying to send him away would most likely have ended in the very fracas Fili had been trying to avoid. He had decided to let Kili stay.

In the corner of his eye he had also noticed Eoric flinching a little at Kili's words, which had had him do a double-take.

"If he had been killed there, it would have started a long-winded process of finding out what happened, and though he's a despicable person and there's no doubt what his plans were, the one responsible for his death couldn't have expected to walk away free. Ethelmer's family is influential and rich, which is why he was in that alehouse and not incarcerated. It's an injustice, certainly, but for you? It would be catastrophic to be caught up in something like this. You could have ended up locked away all of you. What then? He's rendered harmless for now and you'll be safely out of Rohan before he gains his freedom again. I understand how you feel about that, but you'd only face more injustice if you took action," Eoric had explained with an exasperated voice, turning his pleading eyes to Kili.

"You know, we can issue a decree that would seal his fate," Ori had murmured, not aiming his words at anyone specifically, though he had been looking unusually grim.

Eoric's eyes had ventured over the three stern looking Dwarves in front of him, then he had sighed and nodded. "Yes, I suppose you could. It's strictly up to you."

Fili and Ori had nodded curtly, while Kili had glared at the floorboards.

Eoric had glanced at Mari, with a slight furrow on his brow, but hadn't addressed her. Instead he had turned back to the issue about the ponies, offering to take care of them the coming day. Fili had accepted the offer and had suggested to come by to help set up the forge for business, since Eoric had been gone a couple of weeks.

At the third brief look from Eoric, Mari had sighed and turned towards the young Rohirrim. "You are aware that you're the reason why I ended up in that shoddy situation, aren't you?" she had asked, her eyes hard and chin slightly jutted forward.

Eoric had winced. "I apologise from the bottom of my heart," he had muttered remorsefully. Startled, he had jumped out of his seat with a yelp as Kili, with murder in his eyes, had lunged for him. Fili and Ori had thrown themselves after Kili and had gotten hold of him, pushing him down on the floor and keeping him there.

"Explain," Fili had demanded as he struggled to hold his brother down, glaring at Eoric.

"I was just drinking my ale, catching up, when I spotted them entering." He had looked over at Mari and Gisla. "The alehouse owner tipped me off that you were looking for business and I was contemplating the right moment to approach. . . "

Fili had rolled his eyes. "Why didn't you simply talk to them then?" he had snapped.

Eoric's wary eyes had gone to Kili, and Fili had growled at his brother. "Kili, behave yourself." He slowly had let go of Kili, who had gathered his tattered dignity as he had gotten off the floor and had gone back to his seat and had sunk down into the chair. It had been like watching a disgruntled Thorin, and Fili and Ori had exchanged glances.

"I'm not unfamiliar with Dwarven customs, and I knew you weren't just any merchants passing through." Eoric had hesitated warily for a moment before he had gone back to his chair and had sat down too. His eyes had wandered over the group in front of him, lingering here and there, on braids and details in their clothing. "You advertise it quite clearly."

"So simple misunderstandings led to this quagmire," Fili had said and looked at Mari, who had shrugged.

"Can't say I'm surprised," she had sighed. She had waved her hand at them. "I'm fine. A bit shaken up, that's all. It's not the first time something like this has happened, though it's admittedly the worst so far."

The four Dwarves all had turned to stare at her in astonishment. "What?" Kili had croaked, and then had gnashed his teeth together. Fili had studied his younger brother who valiantly had done his best to contain all his questions and outrage to avoid coming across as an accusatory arse.

Mari had smiled thinly at them. "The dark side of this culture, created by Man. I used to work in places like this. Of course this wasn't the first time."

Her eyes had lingered on Eoric, who had sat stiffly on his chair, staring at his hands with his mouth pressed into a straight line.

"That was some good quick thinking," she had added quietly. "Thank you."

Eoric had looked up and had nodded. "You're most welcome."

...

With the ponies back in the stable after Eoric had cut down the hooves and put on new shoes, Fili turned towards the young blacksmith and gave him an apprising look.

"Ethelmer will not forget about your involvement," he pointed out.

Eoric smirked. "No, he will not."

"So why did you do it? You could have simply sounded the alarm and allowed Gisla to take care of it. She would have done it. You still would have done us a great service, but the risk of vengeance aimed at you would have lessened significantly."

The blacksmith shuffled around his feet for a moment. "I could foresee what was about to happen and it would have been truly unfair."

" _Bundul menu denapdul_ ," Fili said quietly as he watched Eoric closely.

The young man's eyes snapped up and widened in surprise. Fili instantly stepped closer, holding Eoric's eyes with his own piercing gaze.

"Who taught you Khuzdul?" Fili demanded. Eoric in turn stared at him with half-open mouth. "Well? Answer me!"

"Adad. . . " Eoric finally whispered, and glanced around them.

Fili's face fell. "Are you part-Dwarven?" His eyes quickly went over Eoric, taking him in again.

"I am." Eoric smiled apologetically. "Doesn't show much. I'm a bit shorter than most Rohirrim but thin in comparison to any of you. Adad always thought I looked like a girl." He blushed.

Fili could see how a Dwarven father could make such a remark about Eoric. In comparison to any Dwarf – well, aside from Kili, he corrected himself – his features looked too delicate. "Mahal's bearded arse. . . I need an ale, I think," he finally managed. "Come along. I'm not letting this go now."

Eoric hesitated, but complied when he realised Fili wouldn't take no for an answer.

"So you know who I am?" Fili asked, as they sat down.

Eoric nodded, looking sheepish. "Prince Fili, heir of Durin," he mumbled.

"But part-Dwarven. . . How is that even possible?" Fili couldn't hide his astonishment.

Eoric looked at Fili like he was an imbecile. "Though unions between Dwarves and others aren't that common, mam and adad aren't the only ones to have children," he said.

Fili felt like a rug was pulled from under his feet and he nearly had to grip the table in front of him to ground himself. "Do you have siblings?" he asked.

The blacksmith nodded. "There are a total of eight of us. I have five brothers and two sisters."

"And have you all taken after. . . your mam?"

Eoric shook his head. "No, I'm the one among my brothers who looks most like a Rohirrim. Most pass me off as one too. My eldest sister looks a lot like my mam too. My younger sister on the other hand, is just like adad. Looks like a proper Dwarf."

Fili gestured at his own face and his neatly trimmed and braided beard and raised his brow questioningly, and Eoric nodded in reply.

"But how? A union between a Dwarf and a Rohirrim?"

Eoric chuckled. "You're not the only one to have asked that question." Pausing briefly he studied Fili. "You remind me a bit of adad, with the blond curly hair and blue eyes, though he's slightly taller. More like Prince Kili. But he's wide and strong, with this straight and long nose." The young man nodded. "Mam on the other hand is very Rohirrim, fine limbed and willowy, almost a head taller than adad. No beard."

Fili nodded with a reluctant smile. He could actually imagine what that looked like. Odd. Disconcerting. Then he remembered the way Kili looked at Mari, which had seemed equally odd and he found he could understand it happening.

"Adad had been wandering a long time when he finally settled, around 2860. Mam was born in 2890 so. . . he watched her grow up. When her family started making noises about her having to marry, she promptly turned up on adad's doorstep one evening and asked, like a proper Dwarf. Not quite what my grandparents had in mind when they brought up the subject of marriage." Eoric smirked. "Mam never does anything half-way either, but made certain they couldn't refuse her choice."

"Let me guess. Late evening visit after dark at a bachelor's home without company, making certain it was noticed by at least two people? Ack, the honour of Men." Fili shook his head.

Eoric smiled mildly. "One of the few times it's handy."

Fili nodded, deep in thought. Eoric drew a deep breath and started reciting his lineage, stunning Fili even more.

"Longbeard?" Fili finally breathed. "And he was born in Erebor?" Eoric nodded. "Azanulbizar?" Eoric nodded again. "This is certainly a day filled with surprises."

Fili was quiet for a while. "If we issue a decree on Ethelmer, will you heed the call?"

"I was afraid you would ask me that. I live where I live and if I'm to continue doing so, I must mind the rules here. My family. . . I don't want to cause them any difficulties," Eoric replied, apologetic and torn.

Fili nodded. "I'm certain my brother wants to, but I'm reluctant. We may eventually claim a far better revenge if we're patient." He allowed a quick predatory flash of white teeth to show and with some satisfaction he noted that Eoric drew back slightly. Fili raised the mug and tasted the ale. Fresh, he noted absently. Hardly surprising considering they were in the middle of harvest.

"I must say I wonder at your surprise over me, considering the choice your brother has made," Eoric quietly said.

"We were always led to believe it was exceedingly rare, if it ever happened. And children? Impossible." Reluctantly Fili couldn't help wondering how many part-Dwarves he had met in his life without being aware of it. Obviously not many, but there must have been others. He simply had not realised.

Eoric shook his head. "Not impossible. Whether we're accepted, that's another matter. The purists have won in the north. But. . . your brother could change our lives drastically. I haven't been welcome in the north, but if someone with your standing married a non-Dwarf, and also have children it could change much. Then maybe. . . " There was no mistaking the wistful tone in Eoric's voice.

"I pass as a Rohirrim, but my younger sister does not. Yet she's tied down by the customs of Men and you know what they are like. For her it would mean the world if she could go north." Eoric's eyes looked pleadingly at the blond heir.

"I'm not king," Fili reminded Eoric. "That decision is not mine to make."

"But you're Thorin Oakenshield's heir. And so is your brother."

"Kili hasn't married his One," Fili sighed and averted his eyes.

"But the braids-" Eoric said, confusion plainly obvious in both his face and voice.

"Was to keep nosy Broadbeam merchants out of our business." Fili looked back and waved with his hands in a helpless gesture. "It's a complicated situation. Everyone knows he'll never leave her side, but officially. . . that's another matter."

Eoric's sadness was palpable. "Is that why you've come here?"

Carefully Fili weighed his words before he replied. "No, it's not, but I can't reveal why we're here or where we're going."

Eoric nodded in acceptance. Silence stretched between them as Eoric stared sadly at his ale while Fili studied him.

"If things were to change, would you consider moving north?" Fili asked, tracing the rim of the mug with his index finger.

"Perhaps. It's not a matter of urgency for me particularly. Adad is not tempted by the Iron Hills nor Ered Luin, so unless Erebor is taken back, he will stay here. Some of my siblings may wish to, though."

"And if Erebor is reclaimed?" Fili kept the tone light, but the atmosphere changed the moment his words had left his lips.

Eoric was quiet for a long while, assessing him across the table. "I cannot say. Mam is still Rohirrim. She has a couple of decades left of her life. Would it be fair to her to tear her away to spend her last years in life in uncertainty?" He raised an eyebrow at Fili's wince. "That's between her and adad, I suppose. If they decide to leave. . . " He sighed. "Perhaps."

Fili nodded. "Well, there's always Dale."

The blacksmith's eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't comment. Fili had said as much as he dared and he was fairly certain Eoric understood the hints. His own mind was made up. He had to persuade his uncle to yield on this, but if that were not possible, the moment he would become king, things would change. This was not simply about his brother alone any more.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey continues, further north as well as down memory lane.

_Rohan/Parth Celebrant, August/September 2940 TA_

Mari had expected the tension from the past days to drain away as they turned their backs on Edoras, heading north towards Lothlorien, but she was sorely mistaken. Towards the end of the first day the mood had morphed into something she didn't quite recognise. Ruling out any reaction to recent events, she pondered over what lay ahead, and what possibly could cause this strange atmosphere in the group.

It stemmed from Fili and Kili, and though at least Fili didn't exactly seem to look forward to the upcoming visit in Lothlorien, she didn't believe that to be the cause. It was too tangible and too soon, as they were still weeks away from the Elven realm.

Both Gisla and Ori seemed to be in the dark, shrugging as at her attempts to find any plausible explanation. Without any leads, Mari decided to give Kili some time to bring it up himself, as he usually did. To her surprise he uncharacteristically stayed silent.

With a growing sense of unease she watched the brothers as they rode north. Kili seemed to have adopted a permanent glower, and neither of the two spoke a word during the second day. Fili seemed to avoid making eye contact with anyone but Kili. Sleep seemed hard to come by for both of them that night, and they ended up taking the watch the entire night. Mari was too tired to stay awake for any sneaky eavesdropping, but at one point she briefly was awakened by a hushed conversation between them that not even her keen ears could catch.

On the third day out, as the afternoon drew to a close, Fili, without warning, reined in his pony. Kili steered his up next to his brother, followed by Mari, Gisla and Ori.

"It's here," Fili said tonelessly.

"Here" was a spot by the river Snowbourn with a rocky outcrop, seemingly ideal as a camp site. Kili stared at it for long moments, then drew a deep breath and dismounted. Leaving the horse behind, he slowly walked over the grassy surface, eventually coming to a halt, staring straight ahead, at a patch of grass. Fili sighed and bowed his head, then quickly dismounted too, making it over to his sibling.

Mari quickly slipped off her mount and followed them, glancing around at the unremarkable location.

"I didn't think you remembered," Fili murmured as he stopped next to Kili.

"Mam thought I was too young, she always said I was, but. . . That Orc ran adad through. I remember it. You were so angry and you cried. . . We fled." Kili's voice was gruff as he spoke and when he fell silent he swallowed hard.

Fili's back was stiff and he watched his brother with a slight squint.

"But I don't remember this location." Kili looked around. "Just the rock over there." He pointed at the grass-capped limestone sticking out of the ground, giving shelter from the northerly winds.

The blond brother darted a glance at it. "We climbed around on it when we stopped for the evening." His eyes drew away from it as he continued to speak. "Or, I did the climbing. You tried and were fairly successful, but Mam didn't think it was such a good idea to have you scaling it." A faint smile passed over his face, and his eyes were back on Kili. He reached out and ruffled the dark hair in an unusually tender manner. "But you were always following me, where ever I went, so I had to stop. I have often thought that if I hadn't obeyed mam, we wouldn't be alive today."

As Fili let his arm drop, Kili gripped his arm and their eyes met for a moment. He then turned back towards the patch he had been staring at before.

"I can't. This place. . . " Kili clenched his jaw and balled his hands into fists.

Fili slowly set himself in motion, heading towards the spot in question. He sank down on his knees and leaned forward to put his hands on the grass covering the ground. For a few seconds he stared at the turf, but then his head quickly dropped down.

Kili stood watching him as if he had grown roots, unable to move at all. A few yards behind him Mari had come to a halt, her eyes wandering between them, and she was joined by Gisla and Ori, coming up and flanking her. Not a word was spoken among them. The moment didn't lend itself to explanations and definitely not to empty words that wouldn't give any comfort.

Mari's attention strayed from Fili's hunching frame. It was as if the land surrounding them called on her, wanting her attention. The landscape was quite flat, more so than when they had travelled down towards Dunland, though the bedrock peeked out of the ground here and there. In the background the peaks of Ered Nimrais rose, sharp and aggressive though capped with snow. It was a less fertile and wilder place compared the rolling plains on the western side of the Misty Mountains. As her eyes swept over the surroundings she realised the reason for her wariness. It was very quiet. The tell-tale sound of wind sweeping over the terrain was all she could hear.

As she watched the others, still with their focus on Fili, an uncomfortable thought crept up on her. She remembered that Dis had mentioned the death of Fili and Kili's father, and she had guessed it had been violent. Clearly this was the location where it happened. But as she studied the surroundings, it made little sense.

The openness should have made it easy to detect raiding Orcs. It was difficult to surprise someone out here – unless you were in hiding. Waiting. And just sitting around in the hopes of someone coming along wasn't a viable option here. There was a strong possibility they had been led into this place for a planned attack.

Mari cautiously backed away and on silent feet she slipped off towards the water, slowly flowing past. Making it up the river shoreline she soon halted, staring at a flat sandy space, hidden behind rocks. Over the centuries water had gnawed at the rock and a shallow cave had formed. You could stand above this cavern, never knowing what was beneath your feet.

Her gut sank. Finding this cave supported the theory of them being led into an ambush. But why? These had been just ordinary Rohirrim, no one worth waiting for. Well, aside from Dis and her sons of course. It just seemed so far-fetched to her that they had been the reason for the ambush. Who would know the identity of this Dwarven family out here? The Men living here didn't seem to care much for others than their own to begin with.

The slight sound of boots on sand had her turning her head, and she met Kili's brown eyes. As he spotted what she had found he stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the hollowed rock.

At that moment, words failed Mari. She hadn't meant for any of them to know what she had suspected, but it was too late to hide any speculations now. Kili would connect the dots himself.

"At least they didn't have Wargs," he finally said, his voice still rough and strangled. "We would never have made it out of here otherwise."

All she could do was to nod. Kili heaved a deep sigh.

"Mam always suspected," he continued and turned to face her.

"But why?" she asked.

"People can do just about anything for a few coins. And why the Orcs would come after us in particular? Fili was named Thorin's heir when he was born, but even if he hadn't been, we're direct descendants of Durin the Deathless. They wanted Fili and me, and at least one of our parents dead. Preferably mam, but adad would do, if hindering more potential heirs from being born was their goal. Which it most likely was." He heaved several breaths. "We've been targets ever since we were born."

"But why not go after you in the Shire?" Mari frowned.

He shrugged. "It's far from where they usually prowl. And maybe they lost our scent as we left and mam settled in the Shire? I can't say."

Slowly she walked over to him and as she drew close, she reached out and put her hand on his chest. His eyes followed her movements, devoid of emotion. She let her hand slip down and find its way under the leather coat, circling his waist, and as she stepped closer she wrapped her other arm around him as well, inching herself as close as she could come, resting her head against his collarbone, well hidden under the layers of clothing he wore.

Hesitantly he enclosed her in his arms and leaned in, with his cheek against her hair. It was the first proper gesture of endearment from his side since they had set out from Edoras, she realised.

"It's a reminder that this doesn't end until Erebor is reclaimed, or until we're dead," he murmured.

Mari stiffened but willed herself to slowly relax again. Kili pulled away enough to look at her and as their eyes met, he nodded in resignation. "Not even then," he sighed.

She winced. "You're too good at reading me these days."

A roughish smile lit his eyes. "I have come to know you quite well, love."

"Yeah, unfortunately," she replied darkly.

He pulled her back into his embrace, but now it was almost crushing her, pressing the air from her lungs.

"Kee!" she gasped and he eased his grip on her instantly. "There's one thing you haven't learned yet though," she admonished, though she couldn't keep the smile out of her voice.

"Don't think I ever will." He twisted his head and kissed her hair. Gradually he let her go and caught her left hand. "Come. We need to scrape up the crying wreck that is my brother from the ground and start moving. I don't want to be here when the night comes."

Mari's eyes went wide. "Is Fili crying?" she blurted.

Kili's eyes darkened and a sheen of tears filmed them. "Like the seven-year-old Dwarfling who watched an Orc impale his adad." His voice was deeper and rough, betraying the emotions simmering under the surface.

"Oh. . . " Mari's eyes widened as she turned to look in the direction where she had left Fili and the others. She wished she somehow could convey the very heartfelt sympathy she held for him, but she feared what words she had would seem like nothing but platitudes. In the corner of her eye Kili nodded, and tugged her hand.

"He'll know. You always find a way to show sympathy," he said quietly.

She glanced at him. "And you?"

He shook his head. "It's too close and raw now. I simply want to find the others and leave, go on with our journey, do what we've set out to do."

"Repressing emotions is never a good idea," she said softly.

"The only thing I want to do now is to find an Orc and run it through," he retorted coldly. "Or ten."

Though she didn't agree with vengeance, she nodded. She understood the inclination all too well.

"Unfortunately there are no Orcs around." He sighed and started towing her along.

"Well, that should be remedied soon enough. It's just a matter of time before we run into some more." Hurrying her steps, she caught up with him.

"See? Always sympathetic." A small smile graced his lips.

Giving him a long look, she shook her head. "This is turning morbid."

"The best kind," he said breezily.

"Kili," she admonished him.

"I must make light of this or I'll come apart at the seams. And it cannot happen now, here." He clenched his teeth and scowled, looking absolutely furious and Mari's step faltered slightly. Stopping abruptly, he swung around to face her, took a deep breath and closed his eyes momentarily. "I apologise. . . " With a sigh he continued, "This is difficult."

Mari nodded. "Let's go find Fili and get the bloody hell out of here."

They set off again, heading back to where they had left the others.

0.0.0

The journey through Rohan turned out to be some of the most difficult days they had faced together. Or rather, they didn't face it together. They were broken apart, the camaraderie was gone and they moved like satellites, individually, having lost touch completely. It hit Mari hard, but she quickly realised it hit the others harder. While she found it difficult, she wasn't forlorn, the way the Dwarves seemed to be. Locked up in themselves, their bonds didn't work their usual magic.

Even the elements turned on them, and the generally warm and dry weather was replaced by cold winds sweeping down from the north. As it collided with the moist warm air making it through the Gap of Rohan it resulted in sheets of rain hammering them for days at a time. It was miserable and they couldn't find decent shelter anywhere in the flat landscape. Reaching Fangorn wasn't exactly a blessing either, as Mari vividly recalled what she once had learned about the old forest. The Dwarves stood looking longingly at the tree line while she lectured them, sternly telling them to stay away. Especially Fili.

"It's not a forest that takes kindly to axes," she told them, staring intently at Fili.

Both Fili and Kili were torn up, but reacted quite differently. Kili went quiet and brooding, something that Mari had anticipated, remembering what he had been like in the Shire. He slept poorly. While he generally avoided her during the days, at night he clung to her when he finally found a restless sleep. There were nights when she hardly had any sleep at all, as rain pelted their lean-to, which was so saturated that ice cold water dripped from above with each gust of wind, while Kili held on to her as if she had been a teddy bear. Though the warmth was much appreciated, his troubled sleep made him move and thrash on occasion, rousing her each time she managed to slumber.

Fili had decided to trudge grimly on. He was done grieving, he declared, but everyone knew that his habit to slip off by himself was because he had to let out some of the tension building up inside. As soon as they dismounted, Fili would steer his feet away from the rest of them. After a short while Gisla would follow in his footsteps, and they would be gone until the meal was over, when they came back, together, but without their usual closeness.

Kili stayed by the camp, but was not really someone to rely on for anything. His sullen silence got distinctly worse with time. Mari saw the hurt in his eyes when Fili left, being followed by Gisla, and it wasn't difficult to tell that he felt shut out. Ori and Mari were left to set up camp, try to cook a meal, or at least make certain they had something filling their bellies on days when it was impossible to start a fire, then cleaning up, all while worrying about the others. Mari's lack of sleep left her a bit snappish too, of which Ori bore the brunt. Countless times she'd sigh and reach out, gripping his hand tightly and apologise for her poor behaviour, while Ori would give her a pained smile.

"There's no need to apologise Mari," he'd whisper and squeeze her hand in return. They'd sit like that for a long while, not talking, but somehow, through that simple gesture, gathering the strength needed to get through each day.

Three weeks after they had left Edoras, Fili stopped heading off on his own and started doing his share of the tasks, dragging Kili with him, putting him to work as well. While Kili's usual cheerfulness still was lost, he began talking again, and his sleep calmed. Mari had thrown one look at Gisla's scowl the day Fili suddenly ceased leaving as he always did, and guessed how the change had come about. Eventually she would ask her friend about it, but right then she was simply pleased the worst seemed to be over. They had entered the southernmost part of the Elven territory and she attributed her raised spirit to that fact. Soon they'd be sleeping in real beds with proper shelter from the elements, and her weary mind and body looked forward to it.

0.0.0

"There it is," Fili announced as the slow-flowing water came into view between the trees. Already they could feel a slow echo of something which to Mari felt both uplifting and soothing at the same time. It reminded her of the first effects that alcohol had on the mind, though she was completely clear, sharper even. That had her smirking. No wonder the Dwarves regarded Elves with suspicion. Anything affecting the mind like this that wasn't food-related was bound to raise suspicion.

They reined in their horses, well hidden in the bushy edge of the sparse woods they had passed through on their way to the Celebrant. The river formed the boundary to the heartland of Lothlorien. Gisla and Mari sat stock-still with their senses alert, Gisla scanning the surroundings and the opposite river bank, with Mari listening intently. Mari shook her head.

"Can't hear anything out of the ordinary," she declared quietly.

"Nothing is stirring," Gisla added.

With a nod, Fili slid off his pony, quickly followed by the others. Swiftly they started stripping down, folding and strapping their clothes to the packs on their mounts. Only dressed in bloomers and binding, Mari began making her way to the water, leading her pony. Fili followed her, he too only dressed in small clothes. Gisla and Ori were on his heels, undressed in a similar fashion. Kili stayed hidden, waiting with his bow at the ready.

Mari quickly got into the water, tugging the pony along, babbling soothingly to it as she swam beside the animal, matching her speed with the pony's. Unsurprisingly she quickly gained a clear lead over the others, particularly Fili and Ori. They clung to their mounts since they couldn't swim. Gisla wasn't as fast as Mari, but she slowly pulled away from them as well. The few swimming lessons Mari had given her before they set out on their journey paid off now, Mari noted absently.

Mari reached the other side of the river and led the animal up the bank, quickly arming herself with her bow. Once she gave the all-clear, Kili emerged and quickly got into the water too, following the others.

One by one, they made it over. As soon as Gisla was ashore, she grabbed her clothes and started dressing herself and was all but finished as Fili stumbled up on the bank. In the water Kili caught up with Ori as they reached the shore, and they climbed out of the water together.

They were soon dressed and began moving into the forest. As they left the river bank, a creaking noise Mari would recognise anywhere had her ducking and with great alarm gesturing at the others. Behind her she heard Gisla hiss.

"Orcs!"

In that moment the first arrow thrummed into a tree, about an inch above Ori's head. Ripping out her bow, Mari moved away from the ponies, attempting to gain an overview over the situation. She wanted to curse loudly but bit down on her lower lip so hard she drew blood, to keep herself quiet and to avoid revealing her whereabouts.

To her grim satisfaction she could tell the enemy, definitely Orcs, were few in number and also unusually reckless. She suspected it had something to do with the location, which most likely was a quite stressful place for an Orc to be in.

It didn't take her long to dispatch two of them, armed with bows. As the charge came, it became even easier. Nevertheless, five or six made it through and attacked Fili, Gisla and Ori. Carefully she took out one of them. At the same time, Gisla killed the one she had been engaging.

Arrows were still coming from the undergrowth where this pack had been lurking, and she kept moving to get a clear line of sight.

"Gotcha," she whispered as one of the archers hiding was revealed. A moment later he was down, with her arrow through the neck.

In the corner of her eye she spotted another archer, homing in on Fili, who had been pushed away from the others in the melee. A sound behind her to her right made her duck to the left, and she felt a scimitar graze her shoulder. She rolled on the ground and reached for her sword. She unsheathed it while she dodged another blow. With no time to secure her bow she simply dropped it.

She took to her feet and ran towards Fili as fast as she could, faintly aware that the archer who had aimed for Fili apparently had shifted aim. The arrow missed her but almost hit her pursuer. That gave her a few valuable moments of lead as he veered to avoid being hit.

Further away she saw Kili pop out of the undergrowth and take aim, but she pushed on, ignoring what he was doing. She knew the Orc hot on her heels was slowly catching up and she suddenly careened to the right, hoping to throw it off.

A string of guttural words seemed to confirm the confusion, but as she turned, she realised it was now ignoring her and instead thundering on towards Fili. She cried out a warning and set off again. As Fili swirled around though, the Orc dropped to the ground, having fallen victim to Kili's arrow.

They all froze, listening for any sounds and trying to catch any movement, but the forest seemed to have gone completely silent again. Gradually they started moving again, carefully making their way towards their ponies.

A slight rustle had Mari snapping her head around and she barely registered what she saw before she was running again. Hidden in the leafy vegetation, an Orc aimed something looking suspiciously knife-like at Fili. The decision was instant but poor; by ramming Fili she'd save him from being hit and she counted on her speed and weight being enough to escape being hit herself.

"Not him, you bastard," she breathed as the Orc sent the object flying. She slammed into Fili who was taken completely by surprise, having missed from where the danger was coming. A fraction of a second later something sharp, which could only be the knife, pierced her shoulder. She cried out in pain and surprise. Dimly she remembered that she had actually never faced proper pain before in her life. She had never broken any bones nor suffered any injury that had resulted in any true agony.

There's a first for everything, she thought and crashed into the ground next to Fili, whom she had taken with her in her fall. Searing pain pulsed through her and she blinked at the vegetation obstructing her view. Her attempts at coping with the pain had little success, and she found herself snapping for air instead.

Someone came charging through the ferns, and dropped next to her. Kili, she realised, his face betraying a storm of emotions warring with the self-control he tried to impose on himself. She tried to smile and raised her left arm to touch him, but he caught her hand and put it back on the ground, as his focus shifted to the object embedded in her body.

"Mari, what have you done?" he breathed and touched the offending object, scowling at it. Momentarily his eyes darted to meet hers. "Dagger. Not like any I have seen before."

She tried to focus and realised she felt drugged. Was this what it was like to be hit by sharp objects? How odd. She had imagined it to feel different, she had to admit. Another set of boots scuffed the ground behind her and she felt a hand on her back.

"I'm going to take a closer look." Ori. In her dizzy state she smiled slightly, but couldn't form any words in reply. Slowly the pain changed into a burning cold.

"S'cold," she managed.

"I think it's a Morgul blade." Ori's voice was just a whisper now.

"Get it out. Now!" Kili ordered and before Mari had a chance to react, it was pulled from her flesh, and blinding pain followed.

"Why? What made you do such a thing as step in the way of a weapon like that?" Kili continued, the anger in his voice revealing just how frightened he was.

Her mind cleared slowly again and she opened her eyes. "With all due respect," she paused and drew a breath, "I ran for all I was worth. Didn't mean to get in the way."

She blinked slowly. Behind her she heard Ori speak again but her muddled brain didn't want to translate what he said any more. At least not immediately. When her brain finally caught up, she realised he was informing the others of what they had to do. She relaxed somewhat.

Ori had of course done his homework and read everything he had found on the subject after the appearance of the arrow at Lake Evendim. She had no doubt he knew more by now than she did. He'd know what they should do.

Hands shifted her and the pain intensified again. Startled, she realised that the strange sounds she heard someone make were in fact made by herself. Someone brushed something off the right side of her face and she forced her eyes to open, meeting Fili's blue gaze this time.

"Mari, what did you do to yourself?" Fili mildly chided her.

"I seem to have a career going as a live target," she whispered. "Fili, I'm in a bad way." Before she continued she searched for Kili but couldn't spot him. "Can I speak with you alone?" she asked and looked back at Fili. He glanced upwards. She followed his line of sight and found Kili there, quickly turning his head away from her, but she caught the hurt in his face. "Just for a moment," she breathed, keeping her eyes on him. He nodded, stood and disappeared.

Briefly she closed her eyes before she turned her attention back to Fili. "I don't have long. Hours? Days? I don't know. But eventually. . . It's like a living death," she murmured, and Fili caught her good hand. "I want you to promise me something." He sighed and hung his head. "You have to kill me before it's too late."

His head snapped back up and he stared at her. "No!" He looked quite distressed and shook his head. "No," he repeated.

"Ori told you what that was?" she asked and he nodded. "Then you know. You have to."

For a moment he closed his eyes and swallowed hard. When he opened them again he nodded, avoiding looking directly at her, blinking rapidly.

"I've died before. Perhaps I'll wake up in some other world next." She smiled. "I'll be fine."

The cold was so biting it nearly took her breath away completely. How did it happen so fast? With resignation she once more concluded that she didn't fit in this world. She was weak and fragile, like glass, and she didn't see how she was going to ever make it. Tears slipped down her temples as she realised she didn't want to die. Not in this world either. She wasn't fine with this, but on the other hand, the alternative was too horrible to imagine.

She met his eyes, and she realised he saw straight through her, all her fears and grief. He drew a ragged breath and squeezed her hand. "I promise. You have my word," he replied, his voice distant and grim.

When he lifted her off the ground the pain intensified again and she couldn't keep her distress contained, despite her best efforts. Then she knew no more.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to the future, the mountain and its shenanigans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, meet a Rule 63 character.

_Erebor, 2941 TA, November 15_ _th_ _, 22 days after Smaug's death_

Nori, the only female member of Thorin Oakenshield's company, having taken part in the slaying of the dragon Smaug, adventurer extraordinaire, rumoured to have a foot in the more shady side of the Dwarven society, sat propped up by the wide hearth stretching across one wall in the kitchen Bombur had taken charge of. It wasn't really for the warmth she sought this spot, even if it was pleasant enough, but it gave an illusion she actually had a task like everyone else. She had a task – though not working as a kitchen porter.

The kitchen was a very good place for gossip. Though most Dwarves were decent at feeding themselves and others, few of those who had come to the mountain so far were actual chefs, so most, no matter their trade, were rotated for some kind of kitchen duty, meaning people were streaming through here like no other place. And people talked. A lot.

Bombur had taken on the role of head chef, with a couple of sous chefs he leaned on so he didn't have to work every shift of the week. Even he needed rest from time to time after all. Mostly the kitchen served communal breakfast, luncheon and an evening meal in the great hall they had cleared to use as a refectory, but some private meals went out as well, mostly to those heading the operation of Erebor. Ori often forgot to eat, and that's where Nori's kitchen service had started, as she had carried meals to her little brother. Thorin was notorious for not bothering about food either, a situation that had become increasingly worrisome with time, so her meal run soon had included him as well.

Bofur was often too far off into the tunnels and ducts, as well as supervising the repairs and the clearing of the metalwork halls, to run back to the refectory for a quick mid-day meal. Though he usually had something along with him, on some days the hours were long and he missed the evening meal. That run was one Nori particularly enjoyed doing. The heart of the mountain, the actual heart, the metalwork halls with its furnaces, not that blasted stone, was something to behold – notwithstanding that it was nice catching up with Bofur.

And then, just like that, she had become one of those who lit the kitchen hearth and oven in the morning, made firewood runs, turned the spits, kept an eye on the oven, carried meals to the refectory, and oversaw the dish washing station, also in the refectory (where everyone quickly learned to do their part or face punishment). It was an excellent position for an intelligencer.

She smirked as she saw Kili enter the kitchen. Dis' lad had never looked more Dwarven than he did now, something Nori found slightly ironic, considering he never seemed to truly stop growing. He was still a bit too thin, though she suspected that wouldn't change with further growth. It seemed like he was slowly becoming taller instead. Adding insult to injury, he was still a bit too soft-featured.

However, he compensated these flaws by dressing as if he expected some kind of fracas at every turn – in visible chainmail, shoulder and neck protection in steel and the gambeson in a dark blue velvet underneath clearly was not something he wore for the fancy fabric. His hair was longer than it ever had been and braided as it should be, and he had stopped shaving, though he kept his beard short, like Thorin always had. It made sense, Nori supposed, considering that he was an archer.

Unasked, she smoothly got on her feet and made her way through the kitchen and joined Kili and Bombur. Kili nodded at her but didn't otherwise acknowledge her presence, which was as it should be. They were not to be seen as being overly friendly, simply acquainted. In reality however, they had the same task and did communicate quite a lot.

Right now Kili was playing the role of the charming steward, pretending to simply pass by and have a chat with Bombur and whomever felt the need to exchange a few words with him. Nori wasn't fooled though, and at the subtle  _Iglishmek_  signs she slipped off towards the larder to prepare an evening meal for the two who were hidden deep in the royal wing of the mountain.

It was quick work to assemble a meal and when she was finished she passed by Bombur on her way, announcing she was heading out with the meal she had on the tray.

"I can take it," Kili said loudly with a grin. "I'm heading back out again anyway," he added.

Nori shrugged and held out the tray to Kili, when Bombur interjected. "Would you mind taking this to Bofur then? He'll miss the evening meal as they are re-lightening the first furnace, preparing to cast the gold in it." He held out a large basket to Nori and both Kili and Nori peered into it.

"Oh, you're expecting it to go well then?" Kili grinned as he looked at uncut loaves of bread, eggs and salted pork, not even sliced yet. It was a meal for at least a dozen people in that basket, though unprepared.

Bombur grinned back. "Wouldn't want to forego such an important tradition, now would I? And it's a very good incentive to get that furnace up and running!"

Nori nodded slowly and grinned. "I have nearly forgotten what those are like," she sighed. Whenever a furnace was built, the tradition was to celebrate the lighting by cooking a simple meal of eggs and ham or salted pork by use of the coal shovels. It could singe the beards off anyone, and eyebrows too, but it didn't deter anyone. Though the furnaces of Erebor only were being repaired, it felt like the right thing to do. After so many years, it felt like the mountain and everything in it was reborn.

"Why don't you stay and share it?" Kili asked with raised eyebrows.

Nori hefted the basket. "There'll be plenty of people who'll want their share, I'm sure. And I'm needed here too," she replied.

"We'll make due," Bombur said and shook his head. "Bofur would be pleased if you stayed for it, you know that."

"But he's your brother," Nori protested.

"Aye. And as charming as it would be, I think you'd appreciate it better than I ever could. I'll see it later." Bombur smiled encouragingly and clapped Nori on the shoulder.

Reluctantly Nori took a step back and then glanced at Kili who followed the conversation with a slight smile. "Come on," he said and jerked his head towards the kitchen exit. Nori let her eyes suspiciously scan the people nearby who could have overheard them but no one seemed to be too interested.

Kili waited for her to start heading for the exit and once she did, he swung up next to her and they left the kitchen together.

"I don't like it when I'm being manoeuvred," Nori hissed in the corner of her mouth.

"No one's doing anything of the sort," Kili murmured back. "You can't do this particular food run and you know it."

She shot a look at him and noticed that the charmingly playful façade had vanished, and she grunted in response.

"I'd rather stay in the kitchen and keep an eye on people." She shifted the basket a bit so it rested better on her arm and against her hip.

He gave her a cursory glance. "I know. But you have to trust Bombur to be able to use his eyes and ears too. And life isn't always work, not even here."

"So say you," she huffed.

"Yes, so say I. You get the opportunity. Take it." There was a bite in Kili's voice now, which had Nori turning her head and scrutinising him.

"How's she doing?" she asked. Of course she knew about everything that went on with the odd young woman that was Kili's One. She'd made a promise to Dis, and she intended to keep it and the first logical step in Nori's world when charged with someone's safety was to learn everything she could, and observe.

"Unharmed. No change otherwise. But I like this plan even less now after the incident this morning." Though Kili was capable of formidable scowls, there was no sign of one now. The tension in his frame was visible though, revealing that all was not well.

Nori nodded and sighed. "And yet."

"I know."

They both nodded as they passed two Iron Hills folk heading in the opposite direction and were greeted with some caution in their eyes.

"A lot of whispering going on," she said as they were out of earshot again.

"To be expected," he hummed back.

She shook her head. "It's too cautious. I think a revolt was closer at hand than we thought." Her voice was thoughtful as she spoke, but deep down she knew she was right. Her gut told her she was, and it rarely was mistaken.

Kili sighed and made a face. "It's impossible to say. This is a very unusual situation and there's no predicting how people will react."

"It's a mountain full of gold," she said dryly. "You know exactly how people react to that. Greed has a tendency to blacken hearts and minds." It could be applied to more than gold, but she didn't give voice to that thought.

"In some – but not all," he retorted pointedly.

"No, it's as usual those who already have plenty who are the worst offenders," she grumbled, and there was a sour note in her voice.

"Now you sound like a regular Broadbeam steel and iron worker," he said with a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Aye. But they are right. You just look at the pit that is Ered Luin, what that's like." She gave him a poignant look.

He met her eyes with feigned innocence. "I wouldn't really know, would I? Never lived there."

"Spare me that Orc dung," she snorted.

"I don't really think I'm in a position to call the kettle black, if you catch my meaning," he said blandly, then shot her a quick look. "If we are to speak about seizing and consolidating power, that is," he added.

Nori nodded, pleased that Kili understood her line of thinking. "Clever lad. Always knew you were even if you sometimes seemed determined to show everyone the opposite." She had many a time read accounts of the mischief both Dis' sons had caused, though Kili always was the one pushing things a bit further than his brother, who usually came to his senses quicker. Well, that's the older sibling for you, she thought and smirked as Dori came to mind.

Her comment drew a reluctant laughter from him. "I was never like Ori."

"No. Not by any stretch of imagination. But a little bird told me there is someone who has made you a lot more interested in learning, and to whom you tend to listen intently to."

"That little bird doesn't happen to be fond of knitting by any chance?" Kili countered, and a more relaxed smile lit up his face. Nori canted her head slightly while looking smug. He nodded and the smile merged into a look of fondness. "I do enjoy hearing her speak of all sorts of things. And she's curious herself. Always asking about the things she doesn't know or understand, and it turns out that somehow I'm not as ignorant as it would seem, considering how I did my best to avoid Mother's lessons. And Balin's."

She chortled, remembering well the laments she'd heard from Dis on the subject. "Trying to get out of lessons and not actually learning are two different things."

Without slowing her pace she continued, speaking louder now for the benefit of the guards they were coming up on, as they approached the royal wing, "Well, it was nice chatting with you. See you around some time." She didn't spare Kili a glance as she steered her feet towards the innards of the mountain. Do not seem too friendly with the lad, she reminded herself. Mind your step.

o.o.o

Unlike most of the others, she did not avoid the treasure. It held no power over her to begin with, which would seem a contradiction as everyone knew her to be a thief. She'd cultivated that skill for a reason, and it wasn't out of greed. As she walked on the upper level walkways looking down at the enormous room, she noticed activity, and she stopped to take a closer look.

Two Iron Hills metalworkers were swiftly shovelling the hoard on large trays where they then quickly went over it, taking out gems and finished pieces with stones set in them, as well as separating mithril from the gold. That done, they poured the content into wheelbarrows which were transported out of the treasury. So the process of dealing with Thror's heritage had begun, she thought to herself, and continued towards the metalworks.

The first time she had seen the hoard, she simply had sat down on the steps and stared at the gold and gems. How anyone could think it had been a good idea to gather such a massive amount of riches was beyond her, and she immediately realised the tremendous issues that would arise. As Bofur had joined her on the steps, staring like she did, she finally had found her voice.

"We need to melt this down into bullions and stack it away. In the open like this it will only cause trouble. It'll still be a millstone around our necks, but manageable."

Bofur had shot her an assessing look and then nodded. "We'll not need to mine for precious metals and stones for generations."

Though they hadn't spoken about it since, Nori was quite certain it was that quick exchange right after the dragon's death that had led to Bofur's insistence that the furnaces and forges needed to be repaired – that they were a priority.

Some had grumbled about other repairs and clearing, not to mention firewood, peat and food, but with a winning smile, Bofur had pointed out that they still needed the metalworks up and running, or they wouldn't be able to do much of the repair work they needed done.

The forges also heated the mountain and with more people arriving by the day and winter approaching, as well as with the fuel shortages they were facing, it actually was good economy to relight them, Bofur had argued.

Grudgingly everyone had agreed he had a point, but as Nori had met Bofur's eyes across the study in the royal wing they had been in, she knew the true motive. This was not really about the repairs to the mountain, heating, nor economy. It was to stop a tragedy from happening, if at all possible.

But it takes time to examine structures and commence repairs where needed. While they had been struggling to do this as fast as possible, the situation slowly had been slipping. They were still balancing on a knife's edge.

As she arrived at her destination she could sense the excitement in the air. Putting down the basket, she took in the sight. It was a beautiful example of Dwarven engineering and expertise and her heart swelled at the sight.

The hall was vast, with the ceiling vaulting a hundred yards above her head. Furnaces were lined up in the middle and above were ropeways, like bunting, stretching through the mountain. The furnace closest to her was lit and to her surprise, the noise of several water mills filled the air. They did not just run the bellows, but also the ropeways, used for ore and metal transportation through the mountain and those were indeed moving.

A loud clang rang out and the ropeways came to an instant halt, with the buckets swaying back and forth. There was some shouting that caught her attention and she watched three metalworkers having a loud discussion accompanied with expressive gestures. She listened to it with some interest while she continued to study the furnace in front of her, noting the water was cut off to all but two mills. The massive water wheels slowed and came to a halt. In the relative silence the three continued to argue, but now she tuned it out. It wasn't that important exactly what the issue was. Not to her.

"Nori!" Bofur called, and she turned towards his voice, spotting him coming her way. His grin lit up the vast hall and she smirked in reply.

"You're looking awfully pleased," she said and hooked her thumbs in her belt.

"Aye. It's been going well, thus far. It's up and running, no leaks, and the metal is melting as it should. The ventilation ducts are doing what they should. But it's a good thing it's gold we're melting and not the iron ore blast furnaces we're attempting to relight. It's is pure joy, doing this."

Bofur was practically bouncing as he talked and she couldn't help grinning at him. She glanced up and nodded at the ropeway, now still, though the buckets were swaying.

"And that?" she asked.

Bofur waved dismissively and shook his head. "I'm letting the lads fiddle with it a bit. It's rusty and in need of a proper overhaul, but they wanted to have a look. Better to have them doing something vaguely useful than gossiping and getting into mischief when there's little else to do but wait." He turned towards the lit furnace.

"We're going to relight the second one tomorrow, and then it's time to start bringing in the gold from the treasury."

"I saw they had already begun down there," she mentioned and subtly looked around again.

"Aye. Not so many diverted to that task just yet, but they're trudging on, going at a good pace. We need to mind the coal reserves we have too. Need to keep some for the iron and steel to keep those repairs going." He nodded further down the hall towards where the steel works and the forges were located.

One of the Ironfist Dwarves under Bofur's command slowly neared, carefully eyeing the basket between Nori and Bofur. He was one of the younger ones, definitely younger than Ori, not even of age yet she concluded with mild surprise. He had, considering the look in his eyes as he watched the basket she had brought, in an effort to make a good impression as hard working, not taken the luncheon he should have.

"You hungry, lad?" she asked with a smirk. The youngster came to an immediate halt and flushed, but stayed silent.

"Come now. There's no shame in being hungry after a good day's work," Bofur said affably. "This is Hannar, son of Trygg. Quick and clever, he is. Came to the mountain with his adad a couple of weeks ago."

Hannar glanced up and a brief smile flashed over his face at the praise.

"I'm Nori, daughter of Frosti. At your service," she greeted him and made a sweeping bow. Hannar's eyes widened and he quickly ducked his head, mumbling polite phrases, stumbling over his words. Ignoring his reaction so as not to embarrass him further, she continued, "If you're the only ones here, you'll not go hungry once we're finished with this meal."

Bofur shook his head. "No, I'm keeping the numbers down. We're short of people everywhere and we don't need that many for doing this." He peered into the basket and chuckled. "I see Bombur is being his usual generous self."

She shrugged. "What's not eaten, I'm taking back. There are many mouths to feed."

"True. Well then, what are we waiting for? That gold has been simmering for long enough. Let's pour it so we can begin the feast!" He moved forward, reaching out and catching Hannar around the shoulders with one arm, ushering him along with him. She picked up the basket and followed them.

While the gold was being poured into the bullion moulds, Nori prepared the food, ready to go on the shovels and be handed out once they were done. While doing it, she subtly kept an eye on the workers, and she noticed the discord within the group doing the work.

It consisted of two Ironfists and three Longbeards, aside from Bofur, and the Longbeards were clearly avoiding the young Ironfist Hannar, though they were discreet about it. But even the other Ironfist was ambivalent, not siding with Hannar as he should have, had this been about belonging to different clans. She had no doubt Bofur knew about this tension and had struck down on it already. What lay behind it wasn't immediately obvious, but as always, Nori's gut gave her an inkling.

Hannar was both unremarkable and not. His light brown hair was fairly straight, but braided as most metalworkers kept it, in one thick one down the back, keeping it out of the way. His beard was full enough for his age and kept strictly braided, just as the hair.

But because of this, it was easier to see his face, ears and neck, and there was no denying it. Hannar looked. . . off. Nothing really obvious. His ears were slightly smaller than the norm and the nose was not as large as would be expected. His neck was a bit long, and though he was wide enough over the shoulders and chest and filled out better than Kili, he was taller than the rest and his body proportions were slightly wrong too. The torso was too short, his legs too long, though he did his best to cover it.

Patiently she waited while they continued to cast the bullions and when the troupe gathered around her, having half-pints of ale and feasting on the fried eggs, salted pork and bread, she simply continued to observe them and their interactions. A sneaking suspicion nibbled at the back of her mind; that the reason why Hannar was so hungry wasn't because he had been foregoing lunch to prove himself, but because someone had been in his pack earlier. A short hushed conversation between Hannar and the other Ironfist confirmed this to be the case. Nori turned her cold eyes to the Longbeards, who pointedly ignored the two Ironfists.

Bofur seemed sociable enough, but she could tell he kept his eye on them, in particular the Longbeards. Brats, she concluded, and fried up some more eggs and pork and casually served the Ironfists and Bofur first, letting the Longbeards wait.

"A fine wasps' nest you have on your hands," she concluded as she was packing up to leave. Bofur sat next to her with his ale, having lit his pipe, and they watched the Lonbeards go back to quarrelling over the ropeways.

Bofur sighed and shook his head. "Tell me about it. I'll look like Balin soon, from the trouble they're causing me."

"What's the story?" she asked and poured herself an ale too.

"They're all Iron Hill folk, different clans, obviously. But there's something in Hannar's family that's not quite right, and though there is no decisive proof of what, it doesn't stop people from speculating." Bofur made a few thoughtful smoke rings and then threw a glance at Nori.

"I never listen to gossip as such, you know that. I mean, it's entertaining enough, but can cause so much grief." He paused and looked like he didn't quite know how to continue this line of thought.

"But you have eyes," she offered.

Bofur sighed and nodded. "The lad is the best of them, no doubt, but. . . " Nori waited silently for the rest. Bofur could be very quick and witty, but when it came to difficult matters, he was treading carefully and needed to find the right words.

"Those rumours, from the south. . . they true?" he asked, fiddling around with his pipe.

"Which ones are you referring to?" she asked evenly. She was fairly certain which ones he was talking about, but she wanted to be sure.

"About us'n others. Can we really. . . ?" His eyebrows climbed up under his bangs, emphasising the questioning tone as he looked at her. Well, this was apparently as close to outright asking he'd come, she concluded.

"Have children with the others walking the face of Arda?" she ended his question with a smirk.

A tint of pink spread over Bofur's cheekbones and he quickly dropped his eyes to the ale in his hand. "Yes. That."

Her smirk became a pained smile. "Oh Bofur. You're too precious for words sometimes." To her secret delight Bofur's blush deepened.

"You're a tease."

"I mean it. You are. It's part of why I like you so much."

"Can we get back to the discussion about. . . you know. And no teasing now, please."

She nodded her compliance. "Certainly." She suddenly found herself hesitating, thinking about the stigma that was attached to this. With a sigh she nodded. "Yes."

His head snapped up and he stared at her with wide eyes. "Truth?"

She threw him a dry look. "It's no joking matter."

"B-but how?" he stuttered.

"Well Bofur, you know when a man and a woman-" She got no further before he hissed at her and intensely hushed her with his hands waving in the air, almost spilling his ale.

"I know how  _that_ works!" he wheezed. "But it shouldn't between us'n others!"

"What should be isn't what actually is." She deliberately kept her tone bland.

For a long while they just looked at each other, Bofur processing this news and she watching the shifts in his face. Then suddenly he sat straighter.

"So Kili and Mari. . . ?"

"Not impossible," she confirmed. "There are some odd things about her, but she looks like the Men around here. And if I'm to guess, Hannar is part Man. Perhaps not half, but a quarter."

"His grandfather came to the Iron Hills when his adad was just little. According to Hannar, his grandmother died when giving birth," Bofur said quietly.

Nori inclined her head. "There you go."

Bofur winced. "I don't dare to think what such a revelation would lead to. How many are there?" He aimed a sad look at her.

"No one knows. They exist, that's all I know. I've seen a few, but it's not widely talked about by anyone. The Men don't speak of it either. Imagine this from their perspective. There are more Dwarven males than females. Many more. Competition over all the women could increase if it became widely known this is a possibility. And it's not just Dwarves that don't like the idea of cross-breeds, you know."

"I think I'm feeling a bit faint," Bofur mumbled. "But they're beardless, those lasses. And so tall. No, I couldn't imagine. . . " His voice tapered off.

"Some apparently can. Just look at Kili. He's perfectly happy with the lack of beard on Mari."

Bofur snickered and relaxed some. "But Kili has always been a bit odd, with his ideas about archery and shaving and such."

Nori gave him a slanted look and then shrugged. "Just saying."

She looked up and saw Hannar come back with a wheelbarrow, keeping his flat look firmly on the ground ahead, and her jaw firmed. "I sometimes think it would do us much good if it did surface. Not immediately, but in the long run."

Bofur followed her line of sight and studied Hannar too. "He'd suffer even more if people's suspicions were confirmed. Barred from the mountain, he'd be."

"Well, that's perhaps not the case. It's the king's decision, not the Longbeard brats'."

"Kili and Mari are still unmarried."

"But she's here. And she does not have a drop of our blood in her veins."

"Took part in the dragon slaying. Makes it difficult to oust her no matter the blood."

"Shared Dis' home long before that. Was even asked to."

Bofur sighed. "In the Shire. She could never have done it in Ered Luin." They shared a long look.

She shrugged. "No use arguing about it. Not our decision anyway. Though I have a feeling winning back the mountain will unmask much of what has been ignored deliberately the past two centuries. We're only seeing the beginning."

"You think we can keep things from turning ugly?" he asked quietly.

For a long while she was quiet. "I don't know. Dain holds the military power, but not the dynastic. With Thorin as king, as he should be, Dain doesn't stand a chance. With Fili as acting king and people not knowing whether Thorin's alive or dead?" She shook her head. "Keep your ears and eyes open. There's something foul stirring."

She downed the last of the ale and put down the mug with a thud. "Time to go back to the kitchen," she declared.

Bofur offered her a small smile. "I'm glad you stayed for the meal."

Smoothly she stood and hefted the basket, then put her hand on his shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze. "See you later," she smiled.

He nodded and she let go of his shoulder, and with a purposeful stride she headed back to the kitchen.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The past is catching up.

_Caras Galadhon, Lothlorien, autumn 2940 TA_

Mari felt like she was immersed in water, like she was floating, being rocked by waves. The light flickered over her closed eyelids and the sounds were muffled and odd. It made her feel disoriented and she wondered why she couldn't remember where she was. As she was comfortably warm she concluded she was on holiday somewhere – southeast Asia perhaps? She remembered the warmth, sun and how unreal it all felt. Just as it did now. But why couldn't she remember coming here? Perhaps she had slipped or fallen somehow, hitting her head? Pulling a deep breath she panicked. She would drown! Snapping her eyes open she fought to move, to make it to the surface before it was too late.

"No, you must not struggle like that. It will bring you discomfort," someone nearby told her, and indeed, pain shot through her, emanating from her shoulder. Gasping slightly she stilled and blinked at the unfamiliar ceiling. She was not in water and she was not drowning. What a relief. But pain? She breathed slowly and it ebbed away, leaving a dull throb.

"She's awake and seems lucid," the voice announced from a distance. The speedy clomp of boots on wood assaulted her ears and with a frown she started to turn her head towards the sound.

"I leave for a few seconds and then you choose wake up!"

Kili's familiar brown eyes smiled at her and in a flurry memories flooded back into her mind. A smile curved her lips as he stopped, hindered by the firm grip of an Elf who caught him before he reached the bed. With a scowl Kili turned to the Elf who shook his head at him.

"She only just opened her eyes. Give her a moment to find her bearings," the Elf said, not unkindly.

Kili's eyes darted back to her and the scowl melted away. "You have no idea how worried I've been!"

Mari opened her mouth to speak but found that all she could do was to cough. Pain ripped through her again and she winced. Gentle but firm hands helped her up without jostling her and water was brought to her lips. Eagerly she drank and immediately felt better. As she settled back against the pillows, now rearranged, allowing her to comfortably half-sit she tested her voice again, which ended in a croaking chuckle. The Elf who stood by the bed studied her with an alarmed look on his face, which only made it worse. Her chuckle turned into a cough again and her eyes watered as she laughed and coughed.

Kili watched the scene unfold, first as worried as the Elf but unlike him, Kili quickly caught on and a small smile tugged at his lips. When the Elf swirled around quickly reaching for bottles on the side table, Kili reached out and caught the Elf's arm, shaking his head.

"She's laughing, Thonor." Kili turned his eyes at Mari who did her best to compose herself.

The Elf looked over at her, and she grinned back at him. Taking a deep breath, she tested her vocal chords again.

"Sorry," she managed. Her voice was raspy, but she didn't cough.

"Are you in pain?" Thonor asked, somewhat sharply.

"A bit. But not that bad." She swallowed and glanced at the water pitcher on the side table. Her throat felt like sandpaper, and she was still thirsty. Kili, who followed her line of sight, picked up the glass the Elf had just used and filled it with water, moving in to help her. Greedily she drank.

"This is Thonor, the healer who's been in charge of your treatment," Kili explained and half-turned to the Elf with a small smile as she had swallowed down the water. Thonor inclined his head and even though he didn't smile, she could tell he was at ease now.

"Want more?" Kili asked, holding up the glass.

She shook her head. "I'm good. For now." Moving slightly to test her mobility, she grimaced as pain radiated from her injured shoulder. She turned her head as much as she could to take a peek at her shoulder, but it was hidden under bandages and a thin shift.

"How long have I been out?" she asked and scowled at her shoulder.

The bed moved as Kili sat down on the edge of the mattress. "You've not been unconscious the entire time, but you've been delirious and weak."

She nodded as she remembered moments of being helped, pain, and people talking to her.

"This is our fourth week in Lothlorien," Kili added quietly.

Mari swallowed hard. "It's. . . October." A small laughter escaped her. "What a coincidence," she murmured. As she looked up she saw the puzzled faces of the two men in the room and she shook her head. "It hasn't happened yet," she said apologetically. Thonor's brow knitted while Kili's confusion evaporated, and he nodded.

"How's Fili taking this?" she asked.

Kili looked gravely at her. "He's been very worried. I know what we said about spending the winter in the Iron Hills, but the second you were wounded that ceased to matter. We were invited to stay until spring and we accepted immediately." Darting a smirking look in Thonor's direction he continued, "I've seen worse winter camps."

Thonor huffed, but it was obviously good-natured, and Kili broke out in a wide grin.

"You seem to get on well," she commented dryly.

Kili and Thonor glanced at each other again, and this time a small smile quirked the Elf's lips.

"I have few complaints," he said blandly, making Kili chuckle.

"He's lying. I've been a pain in the arse. Fili has not been the only one who's been worried, you know."

"It's natural to be concerned when loved ones suffer," Thonor said mildly.

Kili sobered. "You've been cared for as well as anyone could ask for, which was a comfort. We've been treated far better than I anticipated. Well, the few we've come across. Aside from Thonor and few other healers and people bringing us necessities, the only other ones we've seen have been the Lady Galadriel, Lord Celeborn and Gandalf."

Mari perked up. "Gandalf? He's here?"

Kili smiled and nodded. "He is. He's been coming around once a day, but he seems to have a talent for showing up when you're asleep."

She nodded and turned to Thonor. "So how long will this take to heal properly then?" she asked and carefully shifted her arm, testing the shoulder once more, grimacing as she did.

"I'd expect you to be reasonably restored in time for mid-winter. There will be some loss of strength and you will still feel some discomfort when moving in certain ways, but by then there will be nothing hindering you from doing what you normally do. The sooner you get out of bed, the better, though I'd advise some caution to begin with."

Mari brightened and grinned. "Can I get out of bed now?"

Thonor gestured invitingly. "Take your time to acclimatise," he warned.

Kili slipped down on the floor, eyeing her like a hawk and she shot him a defiant glare. In the corner of her eye she caught Thonor quell a smirk. Carefully she moved the duvet to the side using her good arm and then started to inch herself towards the edge of the bed. It was more difficult than she had imagined, and as she sat up with her feet dangling over the side of the bed she paused momentarily, catching her breath while trying to figure out how to not end up in a heap of tangled arms and legs on the floor.

Bracing herself, she leaned on her good arm and let herself slip off the bed. But despite her caution, her knees buckled as she landed on her feet. Next thing she knew, Kili had caught her and held her upright, not looking too happy about it. Stubbornly she fought herself into a standing position. As she succeeded she fired off a wide grin and raised her head, looking first at Thonor who nodded approvingly, then at Kili who continued to look less than pleased.

"Mother hen." She smirked at him even as her muscles started to protest, which forced her to concentrate on breathing. Sweat broke out on her brow and her smirk faded into a look of concentration. Her head felt a bit too light for her taste and she closed her eyes. Her blood pressure was plunging, she realised. Brightly coloured dots danced before her eyes and her head swam.

"Uh, I'm not. . . " she mumbled, but before she could say anything more, she was airborne, being hoisted up in Kili's arms and promptly put back in bed, flat on her back with her feet held up. Opening her eyes she spotted Thonor holding her feet while Kili pushed pillows under her legs.

"It's to be expected." Thonor kept his voice even as he gently let her feet and legs come to rest on the pillows. "You are not used to being upright and your body is responding to the pain, striving to counter it on its own."

"Yeah," she sighed and closed her eyes again. "Blood pressure, adrenaline and endorphins – I understand," she murmured.

"With each attempt to stand and move around it will become easier and within a couple of days you'll be able to stay up for longer periods and take short walks. I would advise you to do it in someone's company though."

She opened her eyes and looked over at Kili who crossed his arms over his chest, gazing sternly at her.

"I'll not do anything stupid," she tried to soothe, but only got a doubtful look back.

"I'll leave you for a short while," Thonor declared and turned to withdraw. Kili's head whipped around with an alarmed expression, and the Elf paused. "I am nearby should anything happen," he reassured.

"But she just fainted!" Kili protested.

"It was just my blood pressure dropping a bit low, Kee. I'm fine now with my feet propped up and in a while I can sit up again," Mari cut in, grabbing Kili's hand in a firm grip.

Thonor nodded. "Stay horizontal for another few minutes and then see if you can sit." He looked at Kili. "I'm sure you wouldn't mind some privacy to discuss a few things. Fear not, I'll be back soon."

Still looking a bit torn, Kili watched the healer exit the room, and Mari tugged at his hand to gain his attention. "Hey! The invalid is here!"

With a frown he looked back at her. "Not funny."

"I'm going to be fine," she insisted.

With a sigh he sat on the edge of the mattress again, squeezing her hand. "It's been difficult," he admitted quietly and the jovial façade he'd had while Thonor was in the room crumbled.

"When do I get to see the others?" she asked in an attempt to divert attention away from any gloomier topics. They would have to discuss them, but she was not ready to do it right now.

"They usually come by after the midday meal." Absently he straightened her shift a bit and reached for the duvet, tugging it back over her.

"What's she like, Lady Galadriel?" Mari tried to sound casual, but a note of reverence wormed itself into her voice.

Kili smiled mildly. "It's not easy to describe her. I've seen her twice, aside from when we arrived here." He paused. "She reads minds. You sense she's not one you'd like to cross, but to me, to us, she's been. . . hope. Light."

"So she's no witch then?" Mari asked innocently.

Embarrassed laughter escaped him. "Depends on the definition of a witch, I suppose." He shook his head. "Gandalf can do a lot of things none of us can, and so can she. For some reason I just feel. . . comfortable around her. More than with Gandalf, though he's been better here than back home."

She studied him as he talked. Despite having been through a lot the past months he looked surprisingly well and he seemed reasonably at ease.

"You seem to be doing fine," she said and smiled.

"I've been reminded to care for myself." His smile became lopsided. "But there is something here, lifting your spirits even when it seems bad. It's. . . nice. I like it."

"So a winter here won't be so bad then?" She intertwined their fingers and his eyes went to their joined hands.

"No. No it won't," he replied contently.

o.o.o

Gandalf sat in silent contemplation with his pipe, as was his habit, when the familiar tickle of the presence of Galadriel drew him out of his musings.

"Mithrandir, my friend," she greeted him with a small smile. "You were far away."

With a sigh he nodded in acknowledgement. "There are so many unknowns," he quietly said.

"True." She sat down next to him and they slipped into silent and comfortable contemplation together for a while.

"I looked into Master Kili's past." Galadriel's voice was controlled but soft, and the wizard perked up at that and watched her through the corner of his eye.

"His father lives," she continued evenly.

Gandalf stiffened, then took the pipe from his mouth. His gaze became penetrating as he faced the lady by his side.

A hint of a smile tugged at her lips and she nodded. "Unexpected," she said.

"To say the least," he agreed.

Galadriel was silent for another minute before she continued. "Marrying out of duty is treacherous for Dwarves. They may one day be faced with their One."

The wizard put his pipe back in his mouth, chewing on the shaft momentarily, then slowly he began to puff on it. "Vestri has been dead for many years. What stopped Dis from choosing a life with what I presume was her One? Did he turn her away?"

"No, he did not turn her away. It was her own choice, and considering the situation. . . a reasonable choice. Unselfish. Dis has borne many hardships in life. Death, life as a refugee, and throughout she has done what's been expected of her. She slipped once, and the result is Kili. To keep him and Fili safe she sacrificed her own happiness."

Gandalf nodded and inhaled the pipeweed smoke once more, waiting for the rest of the story.

"Kili's father is Eldar."

His eyes were back on Galadriel in an instant.

"I know. Seems unimaginable. But I ask you, search your memory, look at Kili and tell me you don't feel it too. He carries the light of the Eldar. It's not awakened, but it is there." She sighed lightly.

"I must confess I'm uncertain as of how to approach this. It must be addressed and fairly soon. Even if he's not awakened he will respond to our magic. The effects are difficult to predict. The future is still hidden when I look into it. I feel this must be approached with great caution."

"Agreed," he replied grimly. "I can easily imagine the reaction from several important individuals, not least Thorin Oakenshield."

"Kili has a right to know." There was a touch of steel in Galadriel's voice now. "He is deprived of half of what he is, and he has a father. A family." Their eyes met.  _'He has ties to many in this world, Elves and Men alike.'_

Gandalf contemplated this. "Was he born mortal?"

"He was."

"Would he be allowed the choice?"

"Possibly. But in the short term it's not the life span that will expose the truth. The Eldar light will manifest itself sooner rather than later. It is already influencing those he holds dear, most notably Mari and Fili. For good and for ill."

She drew a deep breath. "Though his future is obscured I sense. . . " she hesitated. "There is danger in revealing the truth. Death, if done wrongly."

The wizard turned his sharp eyes to the woman by his side. "You have a specific interest in this." It was not a question.

Her back was ramrod straight.  _'He is family.'_ She turned her head and met Gandalf's eyes. Closing her eyes she shared what she had found.

The grey Istari shook his head in wonder. "How is it that he passes as a Dwarf, considering his ancestry? Noldo? Edain? Maia?"

"Life is unpredictable." A small smile started playing on Galadriel's lips. "Then again, the Valar do sometime respond to pleas."

Gandalf nodded. "Where is Kili's father?"

"In the south. Minas Tirith, where he and Dis once met."

Galadriel sat completely still, back still straight and tense, gazing at the surroundings. Eventually Gandalf peered at her and nodded.

"I suppose he must know," he said.

She nodded. "I'll send him a message."

Gandalf sighed. "He will want to find Dis."

"Which I could aid him with."

"Is it wise?" The wizard was hesitant as he spoke.

For about a minute Galadriel was silent, but then she smiled and threw him a glance. "I'm not certain it's  _wise_ , but pointing him in the right direction would be an act of compassion." Her smile faltered. "He made his decision to remain in Middle Earth and fade decades ago."

With a deep sigh Gandalf nodded. "As long as everyone treads carefully."

She inclined her head. "I will advise him in this matter."

_Minas Tirith, Gondor, autumn 2940 TA_

The sun was slowly setting as Celarion slowly walked to his home, and he took a few minutes to stop and look out over the walls. Autumn truly had arrived just a week prior and though there were no fiery colours to enjoy in Minas Tirith, the air was fresh and sharp, allowing you to see much further than the hazy late summer warmth did.

The sun set the walls of the city on fire and it was certainly a sight to behold. He felt a strum of grief in his chest as he watched the world. This grief would follow him to the end of his days, and it was particularly poignant when autumn arrived. For almost 2900 years he had lived, and not long ago he had believed he would face several more millennia, but he now knew this was not to be. He was, in a way, taking leave of this world, though his true fading would not begin just yet.

Eventually he turned from the view and continued to his empty home. It was not empty of things, though he never had been a material person, but it was empty of life. Silence whispered at him from every corner as it had the past seventy-seven years. He heaved a quiet sigh. It had not been nearly long enough for him to stop listening for a certain voice and footfall, though he knew he'd never hear them again.

As he did every day, he took his evening meal, alone and in silence. Once he was finished, he had a quiet discussion in the kitchen on practical matters with his servant Ruinir, a somewhat unorthodox habit of his that had the benefit of briefly easing his loneliness, before he faced the vast expanse of time until morning dawned.

Though he did not need it, he had a fire in the hearth, and he sat down next to it with the book he had opened only the evening before. Not even half a page later he became aware of a visitor entering the house, being let in by Ruinir. Slowly he let the book sink into his lap as he listened to. . . nothing, yet he knew someone was approaching.

"My lord, I would speak with you." Celarion turned his head to the entrance of the chamber and took in the Elf who stepped inside and bowed his head. His eyes were drawn to the simple circlet and he pulled a slightly deeper breath than usual. Carefully he greeted the Elf with a slight nod and motioned for him to come forth. The visitor stepped forward without hesitation but remained standing, waiting for Ruinir to close the door. The second they were alone the stranger held out a rolled-up message between them.

"My name is Gwelunir, and I'm in the service of Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. The Lady Galadriel has entrusted me with this letter for you."

With measured movements Celarion reached out and took it out of his hand.

"How is my great grandfather's sister?" he asked and looked up at the messenger.

"In good health and as fair as ever, my lord," Gwelunir replied, keeping the tone formal.

Celarion nodded and studied the roll closely, then looked up again. A slight curiosity of its content stirred, but he had to mind protocol first. "May I offer a meal and a bed for the night?"

Gwelunir inclined his head. "It's a most generous offer. I humbly accept."

Celarion studied the messenger. It was clear that he had travelled with speed, at least to his eyes. He noticed the signs of fatigue and though Gwelunir of course was properly dressed and groomed, even Elves were affected by dust and dirt, and their things became worn with use.

The realisation that there might be some urgency prompted his next question. "Did the Lady Galadriel leave any particular instructions concerning this message?"  _Does the Lady expect an immediate reply?_

"I was to bring it to you and await your instructions. If needed I am to carry any additional messages wherever you need to send them," was the rapt reply.

Celarion cocked an eyebrow, and his eyes strayed back to the roll. With another nod he reached for the bell string to summon Ruinir and within moments the door opened, revealing the servant. After giving some instructions, his eyes found Gwelunir's again.

"Thank you," he said sincerely.

Gwelunir bowed his head and then followed Ruinir.

For a long while Celarion studied the roll in his hand. During his long life he hadn't had many letters from the Lady of Galadhrim, and he had to admit this roll mystified him. He was quite certain it didn't carry any news of grief, but he was still wary of its content.

With one swift motion he opened it and began to read.

_My young kinsman,_

_I write to you regarding a matter that has recently come to my knowledge, which concerns you. Only days ago we received a small group of visitors, Dwarves and one young woman of the Men. The Dwarves are closely related to the current King-in-exile, Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror, last King of Erebor. Two are sons of Oakenshield's sister, Princess Dis. . ._

Celarion paused and closed his eyes, as he reigned in his emotions. The mere mention of Dis threw his mind into turmoil, but suddenly he stilled. Two sons, Galadriel had written. As far as he knew, Dis had only one. Opening his eyes he continued to read.

…  _named Fili and Kili. Imagine my surprise as I discovered that the younger of the two brothers, Kili, carries the light of the Eldar._

The hand holding the roll dropped into Celarion's lap and he sat staring at the opposite wall. Listening to his even breathing he allowed memories to flood his mind, which he hadn't acknowledged in many years.

He had known all along she lived, which was why there was no risk of fading, not yet. It had been perfectly clear to him why the only thing they could do was to part ways. They had both acted questionably. Granted, it had been a very unusual situation allowing it, but he had tied himself to not only a mortal, but one formally married at that.

When she had told him about the ultimatum she faced – break it off and leave Gondor or lose Fili and have a scandal ripping their lives apart – he had not hesitated. He had wholeheartedly supported her decision to leave. It was their mistake and their mistake alone and they could not let Fili pay the price for their folly.

But he had not known that he had fathered a child. Had she known then? Not impossible. Unexpectedly, anger flared in his chest. He had a son, one whose childhood he had missed entirely. Had he known, perhaps he would have been able to at least hear news. . . He shook his head. That would have been a great risk.

As quickly as the anger had flared, it flickered and went out, like an extinguished flame. Sighing, he had to admit that it couldn't have changed anything. He would have had to let go even if he had known.

His thoughts went to Vestri. Blond with sky blue eyes, short and wide as a barn wall. An excellent Dwarf in many ways. His son, little Fili, was a lot like him, not just in his looks. Celarion had no doubt Fili had grown up to become a good future Dwarven king.

Slowly he lifted his hand to continue reading. The rest of the message talked about her findings, a brief account of Kili's childhood, about the group he travelled with and hints of the importance of the young wounded woman in care in Lothlorien. That particular piece of news made him wince. That his son would repeat the actions of his father was a painful thought. Celarion loved Dis, but he had lost her even before death claimed her, and from what he understood, so too would Kili lose his love.

The message also gave him a report of why his son was in Lothlorien and a stern warning not to charge ahead and make waves. All would be revealed in time, but now patience was required. Lastly his kinswoman had included a piece of information that made his heart seize; Dis' husband had died a couple of years after Kili had been born. The details of his death made him thankful he was sitting down, gruesome as they were.

Dis may not have loved Vestri, but they had not been enemies, and his death and the circumstances around it were grim, to say the least. He realised how close he had been to losing the son he hadn't known existed. Dis had made a choice, her children over her husband, but it could not have been an easy one to make.

For a long while he tried to imagine what his son might look like. From the letter, he had gleaned the boy passed as a Dwarf. Dark-haired almost certainly, since both he and Dis had dark brown hair. He rose and found a mirror and stared into it, but the more he studied his reflection, the harder it was to summon a vision of what a grown child of his could look like.

Gazing past the present into times gone by, he no longer saw himself in the mirror, but another face, one with dark grey eyes, looking back at him. He wondered if the years had left any traces in her face and if her hair still was as dark as it had been. The urge to do something, anything, this instant, made him slowly put his hands on either side of the mirror for support and hang his head, concentrating on his breathing.

Uncertainty gripped him. What was he supposed to do now? Galadriel had warned him off from approaching his son, leaving his hands frustratingly tied. Gwelunir's words came back to him;  _I am to carry any additional messages wherever you need to send them_. Celarion suddenly understood the meaning of those words. His wise and far-seeing relative reminded him that there was one he could reach out to.

Would she respond? Would she be able to? No one could take her sons from her now as both were grown, and she was no longer formally tied to anyone else, at least from a Dwarven point of view. His whole being was flooded with dangerous hope and desire, fuelled by Galadriel's encouraging words. She would not give such an instruction lightly, he knew. His head snapped up and he glanced in the direction of his study. Pushing himself from the wall he swirled around, and strode off. He had a letter to write.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the plot twist bunny is out of the hat! Keeping the lid on this one for so long has not always been easy, but now it can roam free and feel the wind in the hair!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets are uncovered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick reminder - there's an appendix of sorts where you can find details and background material to this story - the Tumblr blog torunwrites. Happy reading!

_Tuckborough, the Shire,_   _autumn 2940 TA_

Dis watched the cranes pass above her head for a while before she continued onwards, down the steps heading towards the shed, now serving as storage for the things that she would keep but would not bring with her at present. Before she knew the outcome of the attempt to take back her mountain home, she saw no point in carting around the things she had accumulated over the years.

It was with a heavy heart she arranged for her removal from the Shire. She had always known she would leave one day and with her sons gone and her brother, Dwalin, and Dori heading east in spring, the time had finally come. Whatever lay ahead, she would be in Ered Luin, either until she drew her last breath or she was called to the east herself.

Autumn was a sombre time for her. In her life, the turning leaves had far too often brought pain and grief into her life, and she feared she had yet to face the worst. How many times can a heart face the loss of loved ones without breaking? She did not know. So far she had borne all that had come her way, but she could not say if she could continue doing so if the news a year from now spoke of the deaths of her sons and brother.

With a sigh she pushed it away. They were not there yet and she still was not finished here. Not much remained to be done, but Dwalin was eager to leave and join Thorin. He insisted it was to save her brother from himself, but she knew Fundin's younger son too well. The prospects of planning a quest was irresistible to Dwalin.

"You need a hand with that?"

Dis turned to her left and her eyes found Nori, sitting on the bench outside the house, quietly smoking. No one aside from a Dwarf would suspect Nori to be a woman. One or two Dwarves might not notice initially, either. Dis smiled lightly at her relative, so different compared to herself in every way. Nori returned the smile warmly.

"You bleed sadness, love," Nori observed quietly.

Dis set down the chest she was carrying. "Many memories are coming to me this autumn, more than usual."

"You could come along. Be active for once."

Dis shook her head. "I'm no warrior. Defend myself, that I can do, but I have no heart for war."

A snort escaped Nori. "Tsk. There will be no war. 'Tis but a dragon we're facing."

Dis smile was strained, but she didn't disclose any of the things both Thorin and Mari had mentioned to her. She decided to change the topic.

"You have been spending a lot of time with certain Broadbeams lately. I can tell from the way you speak," she smirked. For decades Nori and Bofur had kept up a friendship, close and full of warmth. It was easy to like Bofur. They all did, but only Nori had been allowed to become truly close to the miner.

Nori shrugged and wiggled her head vaguely. "Much better company than most Longbeards in my not-so-humble opinion."

Dis cocked an eyebrow and Nori laughed.

"You know where I stand with you and Thorin." She nodded. "And your lads."

They both grew serious again. "Why have you decided to come along?" Dis asked. "My brother needs all the help he can get, but you were never much for collaborating with others."

"I think you answered the question with the first half of that sentence. As for working with others. . . not true. I simply prefer not to be seen so much myself."

Dis couldn't help snorting.

"Oi! You know why I have the reputation I have. And it's a quite handy skill set, being able to relieve people of interesting trinkets." Nori grinned back at her.

"I suppose it is. In particular when it's incriminating evidence."

"Precisely." Nori smiled jovially, but it faded quickly as her eyes landed on something behind Dis. "We've got company."

Dis half-turned, throwing a glance over her shoulder, but when she saw who was approaching, she slowly moved to face the equipage entering the forge yard.

It was an Elf, silvery haired and pale, dressed in light grey and greenish brown, with a circlet, simple but elegant, on his head. He was mounted on a large horse, as pale as himself aside from the legs and muzzle that were dark grey, and though it was clear he had been travelling with haste, the equipage still somehow looked orderly and not particularly travel-weary.

The Elf reined in his horse and studied Dis intently. "I seek the Lady Dis, daughter of Thrain, son of Thror, king of Erebor," he declared.

Dis contained a wince at the Elven formality, and she was sincere and her voice held no trace of any uneasiness as she answered. "I am Dis."

She deliberately kept her reply short and simple, not acknowledging any titles. Whatever this was about, she was not going to openly advertise the status she had. It was bad enough that the Elf had mentioned the royal line. She would not confirm it for everyone to hear.

The Elven rider dismounted, stood before her and bowed his head. "My name is Gwelunir and I carry a message for you." With a liquid motion he pulled a letter from some hidden space in his clothing and held it out toward her. Hesitantly Dis reached out and picked it from his hand.

"I am instructed to bring back a reply to this letter. Is there an inn or the like in the vicinity where I can wait?" he asked, voice even and face blank, betraying nothing. If he was tired or found his task unpleasant, there was no hint of it in his face or eyes.

Dis shook her head. "The Green Dragon is the closest and that's across the forest by Hobbiton."

Nori appeared by her elbow, almost startling her. "We've got a stable and plenty of space. A bit in a disarray at the moment since the good Lady is about to move, but I'm sure something can be arranged."

Had it been anyone else but Nori interrupting, she would have had words with that person later for undermining her authority, but she welcomed Nori involving herself. With her usual sensitivity Nori understood the situation: Dis' discomfort at being formally addressed and handed a message – by an Elf no less. The cynics would probably think Nori was acting only in self-interest, to fish for information, but Dis knew it was to protect her.

Despite her best efforts she couldn't keep herself from shooting a quick look at the elaborately folded piece of paper in her hand.

"I don't ask for much," Gwelunir replied with a slight bow, and Dis tore her eyes away from the letter, back to the Elf.

"You lot never do," Nori smirked. "Come along lad. Let's get this horse some water and hay." Taking the lead, Nori sauntered off towards the stable, leaving Dis staring after them with the letter burning in her hand.

Nori had been a friend for many years but she doubted she'd ever truly know her cousin. There were clandestine facets to all three of the siblings, Dori and Ori as well, but Nori had taken it to the extreme. And yet, whenever there was a crisis she'd be there, a true stalwart of the family.

Absently Dis lifted her hand and frowned at the letter in her hand. The paper was delicate, the best quality found in Gondor. Turning it over she spotted the seal, and her heart stopped for a moment. For long seconds she stared at the seal and her hand suddenly trembled slightly as her thumb traced the pattern.

In her mind's eye she saw  _him_ , her One. He wasn't considered particularly remarkable among his own kind, not least because of his mixed blood. At a quick glance he looked Elven enough, at least to a Dwarf, but a closer inspection revealed what the Elves would call flaws. His ears weren't as pointy, his features not as even, and he was not as tall, nor was he properly slender. What Dwarves thought of creatures such as him she knew all too well, but even after all this time, simply the thought of him still quickened her pulse. Blood rushed to her face as memories she had carefully stowed away came crashing down on her; the sound of his voice, the way he had looked at her, his hands, his scent.

She had never said anything about the choices Kili had made in his life though some had seemed eerie. His father was not a warrior, but Kili's decision to make the bow his weapon, and his immediately recognisable talent, had sent fear clawing through her. And though he had the ability to grow a beard like any other Dwarf, his reluctance to actually do it had been a constant source of uneasiness to her.

When he declared he'd stop wearing braids like his brother and simply leave his almost-straight hair be, only held back by a clasp, she had locked herself in her chamber for hours to find her equilibrium again. She saw his father in his features, visible for anyone to see because of his un-Dwarven decisions, and she dreaded the moment when Thorin would look at him and recognise them. Desperately she had prayed to Mahal for the boy to continue to seem Dwarven in most other ways, and to her immense relief it seemed like her prayers had been answered.

People's tendency to see what they wanted to see was a great help too. Though Kili's features always had seemed more delicate that his male relatives', everyone was in agreement that he looked much like his uncle and great-grandfather. The colours, the long straight nose and high cheekbones that ran in the family helped, she admitted. People had no idea that Kili's father shared many of the traits her family had, simply painted with a different brush.

Staring at the letter, her mind raced with so many questions. How had she been found? Had her secret been revealed? And then she raised her eyes and looked to the south, one thought overshadowing all the others – how was he, her One?

Her feet took her to her chamber where she bolted the door carefully before she found her sewing basket and picked up a pair of scissors. Neatly she cut the paper around the seal to preserve it intact, and unfolded the letter, revealing the text. She paused again as she saw the content, recognising that penmanship.

Her patience ran out and she devoured the words, forgetting to breathe as she ploughed through the letter. As she came to the end she drew a deep breath. Then another. Tears were burning in her eyes, and she read it once more.

_My dear Dis._

_I wish to begin this letter by offering my condolences on the death of your husband, though they come many years too late. I can only imagine what it must have been like to lose him the way you did, and my heart goes out to you._

_The news of your whereabouts and a brief account of events reached me from a place that may seem unlikely, from Lothlorien. Just now I had a message brought to me, prompting me to write this letter. I'm happy to inform you that your sons are well, as is Fili's wife and their cousin. Unfortunately it seems a travelling companion has been gravely wounded, but the Lady Galadriel is confident she will recover._

_It's difficult to convey my feelings at the discovery of a son at this point, as is learning where you live and your situation. I will be honest with you. In the midst of the immense joy I felt as I learned about your whereabouts, how things have changed and the existence of Kili, there was also anger. I have, after all, been robbed of valuable time with you as well as my son's childhood. I cannot help but feel this loss keenly._

_I hope you can see this anger for what it is. It's not aimed at you, but rather at the situation that forced us apart. At the same time I know it's a futile and irrational reaction. I agreed with your decision, encouraged it, and had I known about your condition, it would still not have changed the fact that I could not let young Fili suffer any consequences of our actions. The pain I face now, and the difficulties to come, still seem the better choice, compared to what would have been, had we decided differently._

_Kili must take after you quite a lot, considering no one seems to have suspected him to be different. Settling well away from the curious eyes of both Dwarves and Elves probably was a wise decision, though. Unfortunately, the truth cannot be hidden much longer, now that he's coming into contact with Elves. The Lady Galadriel points out the obvious in her message, that my kin will recognise the light of the Eldar within him. Because of general prejudice and the other heritage he has that may confuse, it may not be immediately apparent, but rest assured, it only takes a brief acquaintance for an Elf to uncover the truth._

_Even to others it will become evident. It seems the spells of old in the Elven realms will affect him. What the result will be is difficult to predict but he may lose the cover he's had until now. His Eldar heritage will manifest itself sooner or later regardless, if nothing else, by the number of years he'll live. It seems he was born mortal, but he may be allowed to choose whether he'll stay mortal eventually. Even if not, he will still live much longer than any of his Dwarven kin._

_The Lady Galadriel has urged me to act with caution when it comes to Kili. I'll forego the details for now, but I will heed her request. However, this does not apply to you. You know our customs and time makes no difference to me. From what I know of your ways, I'd like to think the same applies to you._

_I know very little about your situation at present other than that you reside in the Shire and that you are unattached. For me, little has changed. My home is still in Minas Tirith, and my occupation is the same. I continue to live my life much as I always have, though joy these days is hard won, making it a dreary existence. Will that change now? I hold out hope that it will._

_Neither you nor I is hasty, but in this instant there's the time to consider. Yours is meted out, as I'm painfully aware of. Having lost so many decades grieves me when every moment counts. I don't want to lose more of the precious days you have left to live. If you allow it, I would dearly wish to see you again._

_I hope to read a reply by your hand soon._

_Your Celarion_

Slowly she was dissolved in tears, decades' worth of pent-up grief finding its way out. She was stunned by the contents of the letter. Over the years she had harboured a deep-seated fear that, if and when Celarion found out that not only had she been freed from any formal bonds shortly after leaving Gondor, but that he also had a son, his anger would be too great for any forgiveness to be had.

Instead, she had in her hand a plea not to waste more valuable time. Instant regret gripped her. She could have sought him out years ago, and a part of her had argued all along that she should have at least picked up a correspondence, but her fears had been too strong. Alas! The past could not be changed.

She knew that moment that she wouldn't leave with Dwalin, Dori, and Nori as they headed for Ered Luin at the end of the month. Instead she would join the last caravan before winter heading south. She darted a quick glance out the window and felt a sense of urgency set in. If she was to catch it, she would have to make haste. Abruptly she stood and hurriedly washed her face before going on a search for a piece of paper to write on. Having found some, as well as a pen, she quickly wrote a short message, folded, and sealed it. For a moment she stood looking at it and a smile tugged at her lips. Her handwriting had lost some of its usual assured flow, as she was certain Celarion would notice. With a shake of her head she started for the door. There was no time to linger and contemplate now. She would have plenty of that once she was on her way, but now she had to find the Elven messenger and entrust him with her letter.

o.o.o

The meal was unusually quiet and it was not difficult to guess why. Though Gwelunir had kept a low profile and Dwalin and Dori had only caught a glimpse of the unusual guest, it had put them on edge. Dis had not offered any explanation for the Elven messenger's presence other than that he had been offered lodgings over night as Tuckborough didn't have an inn.

If Nori had coaxed anything of interest from the Elf, she did not say. Not yet anyway. She suspected Nori had learned all there was to know though. If Elves gossiped as much as much as everyone else, she was fairly certain Gwelunir, who due to his position also had actual insight into this matter, had drawn certain conclusions based on both gossip and the information he had. Nori had probably already before the Elf's arrival harboured suspicions, so even a little would go a long way. But in all honesty Dis was not concerned about Nori. It was Dwalin and Dori she wanted to keep the truth from. If the atmosphere was anything to go by though, they knew nothing.

The Elven messenger had left early in the morning after a frugal breakfast and would soon be back in Minas Tirith. As much as she envied the speed with which he travelled, she also knew it wasn't an option for her. A lone Dwarf would attract attention, not to mention dangers. She wanted and needed anonymity as well as security, and that meant travelling at a slow pace, in the company of others. Her things were packed already. All she needed to do now was to tell the others. She took a deep breath and opened her mouth to speak.

"I'm not coming with you to Ered Luin." Dis casually picked up her cup of tea and sipped slowly. Her eyes were calmly resting on Dwalin.

Both Dori and Dwalin looked up at her, Dori with open surprise and Dwalin with suspicion. Nori on the other hand didn't even blink.

"Yer nawt?" Dwalin asked carefully.

Slowly shaking her head, she let the cup hang from her fingers, quite nonchalantly. "I'm leaving the Shire, but not for Ered Luin. I'm taking the last caravan before winter heading south."

"South?" Dori echoed, looking at her in disbelief.

She raised the cup to her lips again and slowly drank the warm beverage. So Dori did not know anything, she concluded. Good. As Nori and Dwalin weren't close – never had been – she was certain he was in the dark too. He did know her though, and was ever-observant with a good head on his shoulders. Not being told didn't mean he hadn't picked up on a thing or two anyway.

When she refocused on the three relatives around the table, Dwalin was picking at the crumbs on his plate, looking irked. Nori was glancing between Dis and Dwalin. Then she nudged her brother, calling his attention to the changed mood. Slowly the siblings stood and retreated without a word, leaving Dwalin and her alone at the table.

"There was always something in the south, calling ye, wasn't there?" Dwalin asked, raising his eyes and leaning on his elbows, which he had planted on the table.

"I grew up in the south. As did you. I was born in Erebor, but I have few memories before the dragon. Many I know still live down there." It was an evasive answer, even if she was not lying. The message was clear; she did not wish to explain herself. With most that would be enough, but this was Dwalin. And they'd just been visited by an Elf. Nevertheless, it was worth trying to discourage him from prying further.

He nodded. "True," he admitted. They sat in silence together for a long while, she sipping her tea while Dwalin watched her.

"Now, I don't believe yer going south just fer old times' sake," he finally said.

She smiled slightly and put down her cup, swallowing her uneasiness. "Of course not. It certainly holds great sentimental value, but I have unfinished business I must tend to."

"So yer seeing someone," he nodded.

Keeping her voice light, she replied, "Yes I am."

He angled his head to the left and gazed thoughtfully at her. "Ye know, I always wondered why ye married Vestri."

Her grip on the cup tightened slightly at the change of subject. "I would think it was plainly obvious why."

"He was nawt yer One."

There was a note of pain in his voice that Dis had not heard before. She sighed heavily. "Don't tell me you had any designs of the kind."

He shrugged. "Nawt fer me ta choose, was it? Anyone paying attention could see it though."

She raised her chin slightly and narrowed her eyes. "Really." Her tone was dry.

"Aye. I may have more insight inta' yer inner workings than most, but I was nawt alone in noticing."

Deflating slightly, her eyes dipped to the empty cup in front of her.

"Dis, ye could have had anyone ye wanted. Why Vestri?" Dwalin asked in earnest.

"Because he was there. Because I had already resisted marrying for far longer than my father liked." She looked up and met his eyes with a glare of her own.

"Frerin was dead. Thorin. . . " She shook her head. "I think he was constantly looking in the wrong direction. Perhaps deliberately. It became my task in life to make certain there would be children. I had to marry someone. Anyone. Preferably not kin." She looked pointedly at Dwalin. "Vestri was a Longbeard, but not a cousin, strong, hale, a master, and very insistent."

"I was beginning to despair, to be honest. Thought there was something wrong with me. It seemed to me that those I knew well all seemed to find their One, while I didn't. And every time Thorin was away travelling, I had nightmares; that he'd die like Frerin." Closing her eyes briefly, she paused. "Then father left and wasn't heard from again. I knew he was dead." Her voice was weary now. "I simply knew." She clenched her hand into a fist and put it over her heart.

"Vestri was a good man. A good father. I wish I could have loved him."

"Kili is nawt much like him." Dwalin kept his voice low and measured as he spoke. She stilled. "Minas Tirith was a much better place fer both ye and Vestri, compared to a small village in north Rohan. Better in every way."

Dis shrugged in response.

"I thought ye were going back to Minas Tirith when he died. It would have made much more sense than coming here."

"You have to admit that this is a good place. No, my skills have not been in demand here, but it has been good enough. Calm. Good for Fili and Kili too. Safe." They were the reasons she had given the entire time, and they weren't false. They were just not the only ones.

He snorted and shook his head. "See, as much as I sensed Vestri was nawt yer One, I knew ye had found him when I came to Edoras with Dori."

Dis felt hot and cold at the same time while she listened to him. He doesn't know who Kili's father is, she reminded herself. She deliberately kept a tight rein on her breathing, making certain not to change it to give away her distress.

"Vestri was off north tha summer before Kili was born. Didn't come home until tha autumn slaughter was over. Kili was born on Midsummer tha year after." Dwalin paused. "I can count, Dis." He slowly leaned back against the backrest of the chair he was sitting on, crossing his arms over his chest.

"It's why ye left Minas Tirith. Ye found yer One and when Vestri came back he found out. He forced ye ta choose, stay in Gondor and face a scandal or breaking it off and leave." With a knitted brow Dwalin paused. "Ye left yer One." There was a quiet sort of disbelief in his voice. "What ye did ta Vestri was wrong, but ta leave Kili's da, yer One. . . "

"You said it yourself. It was wrong. And there was Fili." She was stiff as a plank and unable to hold back the swirl of emotions she still lived with.

"Did ye know when ye left?" His eyes went to her belly.

Swallowing hard she gave him a single nod.

"Did Vestri know?"

Again she nodded. Dwalin closed his eyes and sighed.

"Kili would have a father either way. Fili however would have lost his mother, had I chosen my One. I could not do that to my child." She looked away and her eyes landed on the carved backrest of a chair, worn by their hands over time. "Ironically, in the end neither had their actual adad as they grew up. You were good with them, so I'm not complaining. And they love you." She left the bit about Fili and Kili loving him as a father unspoken. It was a sensitive topic, and after the startling revelation of how he felt about her, it seemed to best to be careful with her words.

"I never understood why ye didn't seek out yer One once Vestri was dead."

She could tell this was a question he had been burning to ask for a long time.

"I had my reasons." Her voice had a slight tremble as she spoke.

In the corner of her eye she saw Dwalin nodding. "Nawt Dwarf then."

Her heart lodged itself in her throat and her eyes darted back to him. He was far too perceptive and informed for her liking. No one but Vestri and she had known the truth, but it was possible to find out by deduction, just as Dwalin had. As far as she could remember though, Dwalin had never met Celarion.

They had not seen each other after her wedding, not until he came to Edoras nine years later, being called there by Thorin. She now knew why he hadn't come to Minas Tirith, and because of his reluctance to visit her after she married, he had never met Celarion and therefore he lacked the final piece in the puzzle. Had he met Celarion he could possibly have connected the dots even if he were as prejudiced as Thorin. But he hadn't and her secret was still safe.

He sighed at her silence. "I suspected as much." Then his eyes sharpened. "Why now?"

"I had a letter," she replied weakly, knowing that this revelation explained why an Elf had showed up on their doorstep. It dawned on her that being handed a letter by an Elf was a clue in itself to the nature of Kili's father. Her gut sank like a stone.

He arched an eyebrow at her. "Is he dyin'?"

She shook her head and despite the situation she had to hold back a smirk. "No, he's not."

"Ye know, I'll need ta know what ta tell Thorin."

"It's not very complicated. My time here has come to an end, no matter what happens in the coming year. Thorin is leaving in spring. My sons have already left. There is nothing for me in Ered Luin – there never was. If this ends badly, I will not settle there. There are matters I must see to, and if Erebor is not to be my home. . . Minas Tirith was for long periods. It can be so again."

"And ye'd nawt meet devastating news alone." He nodded and looked grieved. "I'll do what I can ta keep Thorin alive. Tha lads too."

Dis nodded. She knew he would.

"Will ye reveal who Kili's adad is?" he asked hesitantly.

She raised her eyes and met his, then she shook her head. "Now is not the time."

"What if Kee dies, nawt knowing?"

"Then he dies. I don't think it's a good idea to distract him with any thoughts of this. He has lived seventy-six years not knowing. One more year won't be the end of the world."

Dwalin studied her for a moment, and then began to rise, heaving himself out of the chair as if he was feeling the weight of his one-hundred-sixty-eight years. Unhurriedly he moved towards the door and Dis began to relax. She had lived through this as well, she realised, and it seemed like Dwalin's prejudice hindered him from uncovering the truth about Kili's father.

He stopped by the door leading out of the kitchen and turned his head a fraction, in her direction.

"Ye want me ta think he's Dunedain," he said, his voice without inflection. "I don't think he is." Dis froze, and her relief was gone in an instant. She stared at his broad back, her mouth dry as a desert, unable to form any words at all, least of all denial. He nodded in confirmation at her silence.

"Thought so," he grumbled and left.

The only solace she had in that moment was that Dwalin seemed to accept that she wouldn't openly reveal anything yet, which meant he would keep his knowledge and suspicions to himself.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for some contemplation.

_Caras Galadhon, Lothlorien, autumn 2940 TA_

"I feel like there's a constant shadow in the corner of my eye," Mari sighed.

Gandalf nodded, peering thoughtfully at Mari as he puffed on his pipe. "The evil and poison did not want to let go of you so easily."

She snickered weakly. "Oh, I'm such a favourite."

The wizard couldn't contain his chuckle. "I'd strongly advise against catching more attention of this kind."

"Oh, I agree." A small smile played on her lips.

"Mari, my dear girl," he sighed. "Time and time again, you escape death. How you manage is quite beyond me."

She dropped her gaze to the hands in her lap, slowly playing with the fringe on the blanket wrapped around her. "Maybe I'm a cat?"

He made annoyed noises. "You are running out of lives at an alarming rate if that's the case."

"I didn't mean to challenge death, you know. None of the times." She shrugged. "Fighting Orcs and Wargs is dangerous." Squinting with her eyes, she traced an imaginary pattern on the thick fleece wrapped around her with her fingers.

He gave her a long look. "Young Kili is not a whole lot better," he groused.

A warm chuckle shook her shoulders, but it died quickly. "Whether I die or not, doesn't matter much, but their deaths would." She glanced at him in the corner of her eye and then she scowled. "So much death. So many lives. . . It would keep the Dwarves balancing on the edge of extinction." Turning her head away from him, she brought her hand to her face and discretely wiped her eyes with her sleeve.

"Dis' loss. . . I could  _feel_  it. Not as a premonition, goodness no, but I lost everyone back home. I know what that's like." She paused. "When I got to know Kili, Ori and Fili better I couldn't help thinking I should do something. I just couldn't watch them march off to their deaths."

"As I started thinking about what's to come, and I saw the long trail of death Thorin, Kili and Fili would cause if none of them survived. . . How could I ever ignore such a future and not do what I could to change it?"

Gandalf didn't immediately respond, but sat slowly inhaling and exhaling the pipe smoke as he studied Mari.

"How far into the future does this knowledge of yours stretch?" he finally asked.

"Until the very end of the Third Age," she murmured.

She shifted her face so he had her profile in clear view and he noticed a slight knowing smile on her lips. "Less than eighty-one years from now."

"You may live to see that day, but only if you cease putting yourself in harm's way."

Bursting into laughter she shook her head. "We're planning to kill a dragon, remember?" As she sobered she continued, "Besides, it's unlikely I'll live that long. It would make me one-hundred-and-seven years old if I lived until 3021." A sigh escaped her. "I'm Human. Not Dunedain."

The wizard made some unintelligible noises and went back to chewing on his pipe shaft.

"You have something to share with me?" she asked and shot him a long look.

He turned to her momentarily with a look of slight surprise, made more unintelligible noises and continued to puff on his pipe. Mari's eyes narrowed at him.

"You're one conniving wizard, Gandalf. I  _know_  you are."

The corners of his eyes creased in amusement and she shook her head with a smile. "Fine. Don't tell me. I suppose I'll find out eventually anyway."

Gandalf looked quite pleased and nodded.

"However. . . " she mused, "I could always ask Lady Galadriel. Very politely of course." She left her words hanging in the air between them as she shot him a glance. The wizard scowled and grunted.

"I have been pondering your appearance here," he said, changing the subject.

"I sincerely hope you haven't talked to Sauruman," Mari cut in, staring intently at the grey-clad man next to her.

Their eyes met and his gaze became distant. "You do not trust him."

She debated with herself what she could say and not, all while he watched the shifts in her face. Taking a deep breath she averted her eyes. "I think it's best if he isn't made aware of my existence. He'll find out soon enough, I suppose, but right now. . . Until Thorin, Fili, or Kili is king under the mountain I think it's best if he doesn't know of my existence. At all. Which means no telling when the White Council is gathered. I have to ask Lady Galadriel to not make any mention of me as well," she sighed. "I wish I could say more, but I don't dare. Not even to you and the Lady of Light."

Turning her head back to look at him, she sent him a pleading look. "Maybe I'll be able to talk more. . . eventually."

Gandalf inclined his head in response. "No, I haven't sought his counsel in this. Other matters have been more pressing."

She nodded, clearly relieved.

"To be truthful, there is much unknown about you. As you say, you're hardly Dunedain, but you are not so different from the Men you are soon seeking out in your enterprise." He puffed again thoughtfully on his pipe.

Mari turned her head to fully take in the wizard by her side. "What are you saying?"

"My dear girl, there are many unknowns about you and why you are here, but you are the same as the Men of the north. From whom the Rohirrim stem."

"But. . . I'm not from here and. . . I'm short. I. . . shrank."

"I do not hold all the answers. But you  _are_  of this world."

With her mouth slightly ajar she stared at Gandalf though she seemed to no longer actually see him.

"How do you know?" she whispered.

"I can sense many things, but in this instance the Lady Galadriel has lent her insight. She has confirmed my discovery. You are simply from a time that has not yet come to pass."

"Then what happened to me?" She sounded utterly forlorn and her voice was barely audible.

"I'm afraid I do not know. It is hidden from us both."

Mari averted her eyes and bowed her head, drawing deeper breaths than normal.

"The Lady Galadriel looked into your life while you were recovering. I presume you know she has this ability."

Mari nodded but didn't look up. "I also know she has the possibility to visibly share visions."

"I'm also assuming that you are aware of the difficulty with predicting the future." He made a question mark with the smoke he exhaled.

"To say the least," she agreed.

"There are possible outcomes. Some seem stronger than others, more difficult to change. Lady Galadriel didn't reveal much of what she saw, but she did touch on the shadow your existence is casting on the future."

Mari shrugged. "If we're successful, a lot of things will change compared to the future as I knew it when I came here."

"True." A brief smile softened his eyes. "But that's not all."

For a moment their eyes met and she visibly shivered.

"You think you want to know about the future, but I'm not so sure I want to know more," she suddenly said.

Gandalf chuckled quietly which made her scowl.

"I'm feeling the pressure. It's not about any dragons or other things which would be even worse. It's about  _life_. I never made any plans. . . you know, for the big things, the things many people see as life goals." By now she looked anguished. "This thing with Kili is absolutely ridiculous really. Made up. Fantasy. And I cannot walk away from it, and it's not because I feel some sort of obligation, but because I just. . . can't. I love him."

"Is that such an awful thing?" the wizard asked gently.

"Of course not. It's amazing. It's just that such things shouldn't happen to me. And for all my talk about how I'm different and all that. . . " Her voice trailed off and she picked at the blanket for a moment. "I had my suspicions already before you told me I'm, well, a Man. Human. Same thing." She was quiet again for a few seconds. "You know, my prospects weren't great. Now there are suddenly expectations.  _Kili_  has expectations. I know he has, though he'd never breathe a word about it." A fleeting smile ghosted over her lips. "He knows me well enough by now to tread carefully around things that concerns us two."

"So you're apprehensive about the normal things in life, such as marriage and children," Gandalf bluntly concluded.

Mari ducked her head.

"Of all the things to fear in life." He shook his head. "You are one odd woman, Mari."

"Been called worse."

Gandalf puffed calmly on his pipe while he watched her with a twinkle in his eyes. She peeked up at him and sighed.

"You could not have been more obvious if you had put up a bloody neon sign," she muttered. "I'm just going to ignore all that and get on with our current problems. If. . .  _that_  happens, it happens."

The wizard continued to puff on his pipe without comment, doing his best to look enigmatic, which drew a reluctant chuckle from Mari.

"You're horrible," she accused.

His eyebrows shot up in mock astonishment. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I'm sure you don't," she smirked.

...

Gandalf soon excused himself and left her to enjoy the fair autumn day in peace. Despite the late season, there were still plants flowering; tall ethereal looking ones in white and slight pink, and they looked like a mist among the tree trunks. She peered up at the canopy above her head which was light and airy, allowing the sun to penetrate and add to the dreamy atmosphere.

She was quite happy sitting there, alone with herself. After coming around, being well enough to get out of bed, she had started to feel like she needed breathers, when she could be entirely alone. She didn't know if it was because of the months travelling, which didn't allow for privacy, or because of her near brush with death, and she didn't dwell on it either. Not that she didn't have reasons for seeking opportunities to think. Plenty had happened since she came to Middle Earth, and while she had shaken it off at first, she now found it increasingly difficult to continue doing so.

Content with sitting where she was, she soon lost track of time. But eventually she was pulled out of her reverie, becoming aware that she wasn't alone. Raising her eyes, they landed on the picture that was Galadriel. She instantly knew that the tall Elf was actively doing an impression on her, and she frowned while angling her head slightly to the right. A small smile curved the lips of the fair ruler of Lorien and amusement that wasn't her own rippled through Mari.

"Perceptive," Galadriel said and slowly stepped closer.

"I've come across marketing before," slipped out of Mari's mouth before she could stop herself. Faintly blushing she added, "Making first impressions is not unimportant." Her eyes dipped to the ground before her. "Though I don't understand why. . . I'm no one important."

Galadriel lowered herself to sit on the bench Mari was occupying with a slight shake of her head. "We are all important. We act in ways that have an effect on this world, one way or the other. How things evolve is all in our hands though. We could become a minor footnote, depending on the decisions we make. You could have chosen a quiet life in the Shire, but you chose a path that, no matter where it ends, will have a notable impact on this world."

Mari glanced at the Elf out of the corner of her eye. "You don't know where it will end? I know you can look into the future. . . "

Galadriel considered her question for a while before replying. "Not all is revealed to me, and sometimes it shifts as events unfold. I cannot tell you with certainty what will happen. No one can."

Reluctantly Mari nodded. "Makes sense."

"Yes, to you it does, as one who refuses to believe in fate." Amusement sparkled in Galadriel's eyes.

"Do you believe in fate?" Mari couldn't hold back the question.

"We are born into a specific time, with a specific potential. In that sense, yes, I believe there is a fate. However, we do not lack volition and we are subject to the wills of others. This is what makes the future so unpredictable and fickle."

Mari expected Galadriel to continue talking, but she seemed to sink into her own thoughts. The silence was not uncomfortable and Mari let her own thoughts wander, though she was certain they took her to a darker place than where Galadriel's ventured. Closing her eyes, Mari suppressed a sigh.

"You have encountered many difficult things the past months but you have not truly faced them. You have chosen to ignore emotions and repress memories. It is harming you." At Galadriel's words Mari opened her eyes again.  _"You must face them or you will begin losing yourself, your compassion."_

Mari shrank back and blinked as the voice echoed in her mind. "It's not like people usually praise you for being compassionate. Not when it comes to Orcs and Goblins anyway," she blurted. "And it's a bit hard to feel that someone didn't deserve what they got when they were out to kill you, or. . . " she swallowed as her thoughts went to Ethelmer in Edoras.

Galadriel nodded. "Many say death is the worst thing that can happen to a person, but death is worse for those who have to live on. Having been broken, defiled, and having to live with that feels like fate worse than death to the victim. You escaped, but you are not unaware of what you so narrowly evaded."

Mari swallowed hard. Images of what was and could have been flashed before her mind's eye and the anger and despair she had bottled up lately bubbled up and charred the edges of her mind. What had to be considered murders in Tharbad had left her guilt ridden. In her dreams and sometimes even in broad daylight the chilling fear, as Ethelmer made his intentions blatantly clear and she realised how slim were her chances of actually doing much about it, tore through her. There was also the sense of hopelessness in how she had been unable to do anything about the infected situation during the journey through Rohan.

Like a blanket on top of this was her ever-present fear of doing something wrong, causing a catastrophe, which also made her feel like she ultimately had herself to blame for what had happened to her as well as the pain and risks she had put her friends through.

"Would you believe me when I tell you that no one is unaffected by such thoughts and emotions?" Galadriel asked gently.

With her eyes still closed Mari smiled slightly.  _You?_  She didn't ask out loud, knowing Galadriel would hear her anyway.

" _Yes,"_  Galadriel replied, simply.

"Why do you do this?" Mari suddenly asked and opened her eyes, gazing at Galadriel. She knew the Elf understood what she was asking; why do you care about my well-being?

"I have many reasons," she replied cryptically with a slight smile.  _"But one very personal. Eventually all will be revealed, but now it's too early."_  She reached out and put her hand over Mari's. Mari watched it with widening eyes, before they snapped up, landing on Galadriel's face, in that moment knowing they had something that tied them together. To her surprise Mari found she was perfectly fine not knowing exactly what that was. At least for now. All she felt was wonder over having this connection, and she smiled back at the other woman.

" _Do not hide away what's difficult. You are not alone. Share it."_  Galadriel smiled and slowly turned her head to look behind her. Mari leaned to her right to look past the Lady of Light and spotted Kili slowly emerging from behind the tree trunk where he obviously had been hiding. He looked a bit guilty and it was clear he must have been there a while, overhearing their conversation.

Galadriel rose and moved over to Kili, still with a warm smile on her lips. When she stopped, she gazed at him for long moments, and Mari saw Kili's shoulders relax as he followed her with his eyes, meeting her gaze. Mari studied them as they faced each other, and she suspected there was some silent communication going on between them. Absently she tilted her head as her eyes wandered between them, and a slight frown knitted her brow. She was a High Elf and Kili was a Dwarf, and yet there was something. . .

Galadriel's eyes were suddenly on Mari, boring into her, and she instinctively felt the warning in the look she was given. Kili followed her line of sight, slightly confused, but smiled as his eyes landed on Mari.

"I will see you both later," Galadriel said, inclined her head and disappeared surprisingly quickly down a set of steps leading to the forest floor below.

"How are you?" Kili's question brought Mari's attention back to him, and she smiled at him.

"Better," she replied.

He gingerly walked over to the bench and sat on the spot Galadriel had vacated. "It's odd how she always makes you feel. . . better," he mused.

"Oh, I'm fairly sure she's not as charming to everyone. For some reason she wants us to feel that way about her." Mari couldn't keep a note of dryness out of her voice.

"Fili keeps being wary around her," Kili said sadly. "He says it's not her as such, but that he finds the magic unsettling."

Mari nodded. "I can see why. I don't feel unsettled or threatened, but I feel it's there." She hesitated for a moment as she studied Kili who was following the fair form of the Lothlorien ruler with his eyes, as she calmly made her way elsewhere.

"You just trust her," Mari suddenly said, unable to hide her surprise. "There are no barriers at all, is there?"

Bemused he turned back to Mari. "Why wouldn't I trust her? It's so clear her intentions are good and that she cares."

"I'll admit that I feel like she is benevolent, and I think she's genuine, but that's based on what I already know about her. Right off the bat I wouldn't trust that feeling of uncomplicated care and well-wishing she gives me. That's what  _she_  wants me to feel. Now, as I said, I think she's genuine, so I won't try and fight it, but if I didn't know what I know, I'd at least try to keep some measure of independence of mind."

Kili looked conflicted and then he shook his head and his forehead smoothed. "No, I just. . . know." He smiled at her. "And I'm glad to hear you're doing better." The smile faltered somewhat. "But I must apologise to you."

"Whatever for?" she asked bewildered.

"I haven't listened," he murmured and looked down at his hands. "You have been through quite a lot the past year, and I should have-"

She shook her head and put her fingertips over his mouth. Startled, he looked up. "I haven't talked," she protested with a sad smile.

He caught her hand, dipping his eyes to study it. "No, but I should have asked." He raised his gaze again.

Mari inched herself closer and leaned in, resting her forehead against his. "It's been hard on us both."

He brought up his hands, cradling her face with them. She sensed his tension and pressed a light kiss on his lips, one that he didn't reciprocate. Slowly she pulled back and he let her go, his hands falling back into his lap. For a beat she studied him.

"In the end nothing happened," she offered quietly.

"But. I. Let. It. Go. That. . .  _despicable_. . . what he did, what he was  _thinking_. . . " Kili hissed between clenched teeth, and as he lifted his head and opened his eyes, she did a double-take at the way he had suddenly transformed in front of her. As easily as he could break out into a radiating grin, he could slip into an angry scowl, but this was a lot more than anger. The grey pallor of his skin, the near blackness of his eyes under the knitted brow only he was capable of, and the slight glint of teeth along with the barely held-back fire clearly raging under the surface, reminded her of that morning after their first night together, though that had been a mere breeze in comparison. This was the kind of rage that robbed anyone of common sense and self-preservation, and for Ethelmer's sake she was glad he was safe somewhere in Rohan, or either he or Kili would have met an untimely death in this very moment.

Taking a deep breath, she nervously licked her lips. She realised logic would fall on deaf ears, but she was uncertain how to approach this otherwise. Think like a dwarf, she ordered herself.

"The day of reckoning is only postponed, Kili," she found herself saying. "There is still plenty of time to deal with him. I suppose you overheard what Galadriel said – death is worse for those who have to live on. He deserves to live with what he has done. I'd rather see him live and face his crimes, be reminded of them for the rest of his life."

She drew another deep breath, feeling quite off kilter by the anger she herself experienced as she spoke of this. It was unheard of for her to even think along the lines of revenge – and implied physical one at that. She had never believed in it before and an icy feeling set in her gut. This was what Galadriel had spoken of, she was sure.

Pulling herself together she refocussed on Kili. His barely contained fury gradually died down to be replaced by concern.

"Mari," he began, and then paused. "You're not. . . " He closed his mouth, looking away, struggling with what to say. When he turned back he stilled for a moment, then without hesitation pulled her into a tight embrace.

"You're not doing well. You would never have said something like that if you were your usual self."

"A lot has happened and. . . some things changes you." Her voice sounded small even in her ears.

"I swore I would contain it. You're not like us and. . . I'm thankful for it many times. You see things differently and I appreciate that. I don't want to take that from you and change you into a poor copy of what we are."

She boxed him lightly in his chest. "Quit the wallowing and self-recrimination. Experiencing fury and vengefulness is not unique to Dwarves. I very much doubt you have anything to do with this." Pushing against him she put some space between them so she could look at him.

"I react to what's happening to me. It makes me think and feel. Or rather, I have preferred to not think and feel at all lately. But I have to or I could change in a way none of us would be comfortable with." She put her hand on his cheek and canted her head.

"I have a feeling it's true for you as well. I have never seen you react like you just did. But you haven't said a word about Tharbad, nor about Rohan, so it doesn't come as a huge surprise. You too put a lid on things but sooner or later it must come out."

"I live in constant fear of losing you. You nearly died!" His voice cracked a little. "How many times can you evade death before it finally comes for you?"

"There's always a risk of injury or death when you set out on something like this. It could just as well happen to you." She didn't remind him of the very reason she had decided to involve herself in their lives in the first place, but he stiffened at her words nevertheless. So he hadn't forgotten, she concluded.

"Is that. . . why?" he whispered.

She frowned. "Why, what?"

"Is that why you care so little about your own safety? Because I'll be gone soon?"

"First of all, we don't know that. Circumstances have changed so much we can't assume things will end like I once knew they would. Besides, the plan is that you're going to live." She was suddenly struck with the truth in Kili's suspicions. Yes, the plan was that they were going to live, but what if they didn't? If she didn't live to see it happen, she'd not have to face that pain.

He pulled back, looking stricken, and she knew he had seen the truth in her face.

"I'm not deliberately seeking death! I'm not suicidal!" she blurted and gripped his clothes in a white-knuckled grasp. He stared at her and she could tell he didn't believe her. Angrily she shook her head.

"Yes, there might be a part of me that would prefer to not risk facing the worst, and yes, that may make me take some chances, but no, it's not something I actually seek. I wasn't even aware of this until you asked the question."

They stared at each other for a long while. "I don't know how to process this. What to say. What to do," Kili finally said.

Mari sighed heavily and released her grip on him, flexing her aching fingers. "Maybe it just needs time. And some more talking. Time we have, at least."

A small smile curved his lips. "How do you do it? In just a few sentences you put everything in perspective."

With a blush creeping over her cheeks she shrugged. "I'm not doing anything. I simply know we don't need to solve everything this instant. We couldn't. And we're stuck here in Lothlorien now."

He nodded. "I don't want to leave," he declared.

She burrowed into his chest with her head. "You're overreacting."

"Perhaps. A little. But I'm truly content here. I never thought I would be." He wrapped his arms around her and coaxed her into a more comfortable position.

Mari's mind went back to the memory of him and Galadriel facing each other and she opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again as she remembered Galadriel's piercing look. Instead she closed her eyes and relaxed, nearly overwhelmed by sudden tiredness. Next thing she knew she was being picked up and carried off, and her eyes flew open in surprise.

"You dozed off," Kili explained with amusement in his voice. She relaxed again and leaned her head against his shoulder.

"Don't know what happened. I just got so tired," she murmured.

"You're still healing," he reminded her gently.

She closed her eyes and nodded. Yes she was, she acknowledged. And we have time, she thought and slipped into unconsciousness again.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili is struggling, trying to bring them all together after their tough journey north which leads to a near disaster - and an important meeting.

_Caras Galadhon, Lothlorien, December 2940 TA_

For a long while Fili stood watching his brother, who was engrossed in a conversation with an Elf he didn't know the name of. Or rather, he hadn't bothered to remember. It was one of the healers who had treated Mari, a pleasant enough fellow, but at first Fili had been unable to pull his focus from what was happening to Mari. Then, as he had noticed the burgeoning friendship between Kili and the Elf, he had instantly felt resentment, which had made him feel ashamed. The healer had done nothing to earn his resentment, while Fili himself had done plenty to drive Kili into the arms of the Elves around them.

They had always shared everything. After their father's death they had never truly fought like so many other siblings did. They had pulled pranks on each other, but they had never quarrelled. Decade after decade they'd had that understanding. Then things started changing and they kept changing. It was more than simply finding that other half, at least to Fili.

He thought he'd known the responsibility that would be his one day, but he hadn't truly. The journey they were on had slowly opened his eyes to what he would face. But on closer inspection he had to admit that it wasn't that either. He felt a distance growing between himself and Kili, and it wasn't  _him_. It was Kili and that frightened Fili.

Everyone believed he had been grieving his father as he lost control at the place of his murder, but that was not it. The old nightmare had returned, when he watched his father being run through by a sword, but it wasn't his father he watched die. It was Kili. When he had sunk to the earth, digging in his fingers and clawing the grass and soil, leaning his forehead against the sun-warmed turf, unable to hold back his tears, it was the reminder that place gave him of why they were on this journey in the first place that broke him.

For once he couldn't seek his brother's company in a difficult situation because it was about him, and Fili couldn't bring himself to talk about what he knew of the future. He hadn't been able to even look at Kili at first. The hurt in Kili's eyes had been adding to his despair. To an outsider it might seem like he'd turned to Gisla, who dutifully followed him wherever he went, but he had not shared any of this with her. He had shut her out as much as he had shut Kili out, but she had still kept coming.

Eventually she told him he had to pull himself together because it was breaking Mari and Ori who had kept them all afloat during those weeks. Fili felt even more ashamed and had immediately stopped leaving and started doing his part. He was no child and it wasn't fitting for him, Thorin's heir, to act the way he had.

There had been no time to begin mending things before the near-catastrophe had struck them. The attention naturally had been on Mari, who balanced between life and death, and everything else had to be put aside. Though she had explained this danger, and Ori had elaborated once he had studied the matter more closely, Fili hadn't truly understood. He went cold whenever he allowed himself to remember that she had wilfully flung herself in the way of such a weapon. For him.

Had it been Kili it wouldn't have surprised him in the least, but she had done it for him. And she had known what she was doing. Granted, her defence had been that she had intended only to knock him out of the way and not to shield him. It was still a significant risk she had taken, and it had nearly killed her. On top of this, she had asked him to end her life to prevent her from turning into a wraith.

Through all of this, Kili had never shown a hint of resentment. Fili couldn't understand why he didn't. He was the cause of what had happened. His childish behaviour in Rohan had worn Mari down, making her less swift on her feet. He had been the reason why she had put herself in danger. Kili should be quite angry with him. But he wasn't and it only added to the guilt.

Kili's laughter drifting in his direction had Fili sighing. Kili was a social person. Easily struck up acquaintances with people. Curious. Much more open-minded than he was. In many ways Kili was more of a charming and confident version of Ori, though his liveliness and the ease with which he took to physical activity had steered him away from bookish learning. That didn't mean he hadn't learned, and now, having matured, he showed an interest for learning Fili didn't share. Ori and Kili had gradually grown closer, in particular after his and Gisla's injuries, which had kept them apart during the last part of the winter. Here in Lothlorien, it was becoming very obvious, as Fili often would come across Ori and Kili discussing something. The conversations during the meals could bore Fili to tears, but they completely absorbed first Kili and Ori and later pulled Mari in too.

What grated on Fili the most, though, was how easily Kili had taken to Lothlorien and its inhabitants, the Lady of Light in particular. Fili could admit that the Elven realm was beautiful, in a flighty, Elven kind of way. He could admit that they were treated well and that the Lady Galadriel seemed benevolent. He could never forget, though, that she was a very powerful being, never relax whenever they encountered her. But Kili? He didn't even consider it as something he should be wary of. And somehow he also seemed to fit into this forest in a way none of the others did.

A string of Elvish words reached Fili's ears, obviously spoken by Kili, and Fili turned away and slowly began to leave. Kili would most likely present all sorts of logical reasons for learning their language, but Fili knew in his heart that wasn't why Kili was picking it up. He did it because he wanted to, and Fili simply couldn't understand that inclination. He couldn't understand how Kili with such ease had accepted Galadriel in the same way as he might accept. . . a friend. You just didn't befriend her. Just as you didn't befriend Gandalf, which Mari had – another thing he didn't understand, though Mari had tried to explain.

No, Fili simply didn't understand.

For a long while he wandered through the strange city, deep in thought and blind to its beauty. Somehow he had to find a way to reach out to Kili and begin to bridge the rift that had formed. He stopped in a glade and looked up at the sky, which was annoyingly clear. It did rain from time to time. It wasn't like the drizzle elsewhere but somehow gentle and as pretty as the way the sun shone through the canopy above. Everything was so calm and ethereal and it felt too otherworldly. Fili needed a break from it.

He found a stone to sit down on and he rubbed his face with his hands in frustration as he tried to think of something. Tiredly he stared dully down at his feet and the stone they rested on for several minutes, trying to block out the jumbled thoughts. Stone, he mused. He reached down and touched the bland grey stone, and somehow his mind cleared. Straightening, he raised his eyes and looked to the west. Beyond the trees were the Misty Mountains, and Dimrill Dale. It would be very unwise to venture inside Khazad Dûm, but a visit to the valley shouldn't be a problem. They were so close and it was a very special place, infused with Dwarven history.

It would give him a much needed breather, a natural reason to bring up the things that irked him and remind Kili of who they were and where their loyalties should be housed. Much lighter at heart, he rose and unhurriedly headed back to their lodgings.

o.o.o

Gisla stood at the entrance of the library, hesitating for a brief moment. The message in her pocket urged her to continue forward though, and she took a deep breath and headed inside. She wasn't alone. Here and there she glimpsed Elves, some sitting in comfortable seats reading while others were intently searching through the volumes.

"May I help you?" a melodious voice asked, stopping Gisla in her tracks. She turned and stared into the chest of a female Elf. Slightly embarrassed, she raised her eyes and looked into curious blue eyes.

"I'm looking for someone who could possibly help me translate a message," Gisla explained.

The Elf raised her eyebrows as to encourage Gisla to continue.

"That someone would need to know. . . " she hesitated, "Black speech."

The woman paled, looking quite alarmed. "There are not many who can read. . . " She didn't finish the sentence.

Gisla's eyes dipped to the floor. "I'm aware of that. But I had hoped there could be someone here who could. You live such long lives and have seen so many things and have time to learn. . . And we really need to know."

The silence that followed became awkward, but Gisla refused to fidget. It wasn't who she was in the first place and this was important, though everyone else seemed to have forgotten about it in the weeks after their arrival in this Elven realm. She hadn't.

"I'm Hannasiel, one of the keepers of this library," the Elf finally offered.

Gisla raised her eyes and smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry. I seem to have lost my manners. I'm-"

"Lady Gisla." Hannasiel smiled at her. "Pleased to meet you."

"At your service," Gisla automatically replied and inclined her head.

"If you don't mind my asking, how would such a message come into your hands?"

"By chance. I'm certain there's no good news in it, but I'm nevertheless pleased we caught it, as I'm convinced it's about us in some way or the other. Understanding your enemy and such, or in this case, their plans."

Hannasiel nodded thoughtfully. "There are a few that I know who could help you, and fortunately one presently in this building. Let me take you to him." She turned and led the way further into the library, and a relieved Gisla followed.

...

She stood unmovingly, watching the Elven ruler with a steady gaze. Of course Lord Celeborn would be one to know a language like Black Speech, she reasoned. She had simply not expected to find him here, at the library. Lord Celeborn sat studying the piece of parchment on the table, calmly, though he did not hide his discomfort.

"And you've carried it with you, all the way from Tharbad?" he asked, glancing up at her.

"Aye. Little else we could do. None of us can read it. We suspect what this is about, but we need to know," she returned equally composed.

Slowly Celeborn reached out and opened it, letting his eyes land on the text. For a while he studied it, and then he pulled back his hands, putting them on the table's surface, palms down.

"It speaks of death." His voice was without inflection and his eyes didn't leave the parchment. Gisla nodded, even if he wasn't looking in her direction. "The heirs, naturally. But this concerns the entire line of Durin, the direct descendants of Durin the Deathless. . . and anyone in association with them."

A soft sigh escaped Gisla and the Elven ruler turned his head to look at her again.

"Fili and Kili's father paid a high price for his love of Dis," she said. "I walked into the marriage with Fili knowing this could also be my fate."

"Yes, you did. But there is one other who didn't know. Whether she's formally tied to the line of Durin or not matters little."

Gisla sensed the reproach. "I think Kili growing up as sheltered as he was made him good in many ways, but it also meant he never truly understood some of the dangers and responsibilities that come with being who he is. He'd never wilfully mislead in such a way. Mari is very dear to him."

Celeborn nodded and smiled slightly. "That has been quite obvious."

"I don't think she's entirely oblivious to the dangers either. In fact, I think she's better informed about what may come our way than any of us," she carefully suggested.

The Elf lord slowly leaned back in his seat and turned to the view outside. "It holds no specific information. It's a general order to end the line of Durin and any other deemed necessary. It's issued in Gundabad." Celeborn sighed. "I can conclude that it was not originally meant for the Men from whom you got it. This was issued to a commander who for some reason decided to delegate this. It's a copy of an order, which may – or may not – hold more specific details and additional information."

"So in other words, we're no wiser than before. Nothing has changed," Gisla summed up.

Celeborn waved at the parchment. "Not because of this as such. It may indicate that you have eyes upon you, watching you more closely than perhaps you expected."

"We fought through the winter along with the Dunedain of the north. It probably alerted the enemy to our whereabouts."

He inclined his head. "Most likely. I would not see the attack on you as you entered our lands as an isolated event."

Gisla's mouth was set in a hard line. "I didn't at the time and I dare say none of the others did either. On the other hand, it doesn't seem like we are hunted with any vigour." As she studied the Elf lord she could tell he was lost in his musings. She reached out and picked up the message, which brought his mind back from wherever it had been wandering off to.

"As long as you stay here you'll be quite safe. Use the respite wisely. Heal and mend what's broken before you set out again." His and Gisla's eyes met and she understood he was talking about more than physical well-being and she nodded.

_Dimrill Dale, Misty Mountains, December 2940 TA_

Mari touched the stone with her hand, first only with her fingertips, but then she let her palm come into contact with it too. It was a strange moment. She heard the wind but otherwise the world was silent. For a moment she looked up to confirm that the others were where they had been moments ago. They stood spread out over the rocky terrain, silently taking in the place, just as she did, and she turned her eyes back to the silent rock. Unlike places such as Long Cleeve, this place was not filled with fear, but it was bleak, and she sighed heavily.

She rose and slowly stepped closer to the opening in the mountain, the gate leading into the caverns of Moria. The frame around the opening was certainly distinctly Dwarven and it had probably once been a fine entrance to the great halls within, but the wear and tear, and the sheer vandalism that it had suffered, only added to the depressing feeling seeping into her.

Part of her wanted to step inside and take a look at what it was like, but she knew it was an idiotic idea. Just being here outside was questionable, even if it was daylight.

Battlefield tourism wasn't her kind of tourism, but as it had come up and had been discussed, she'd had to admit that she was curious. It was a place of such importance, it begged to be visited. It had been Fili's suggestion and he had been quite enthusiastic about it, which hardly surprised her. He had grown restless lately and he needed something to do. It was logical that he'd propose a short trip to this virtually sacred place. Kili however, was not quite as eager to go.

When she had prodded Kili about it, he had admitted that though it would be some sort of a pilgrimage, it wouldn't be uncomplicated. Though they had no memories of it themselves, they had lost family there. It was also a place of origin for them, one that was lost, and would continue to be so.

Mari suspected the rift between him and Fili might play a part too, but she didn't bring it up. But just as she had thought it would never come to anything, Fili and Kili in unison declared they'd talked about it and had decided they should go. Since it was late in the autumn, on the verge of winter, they should go as soon as they could, before the weather turned and winter made it impossible to go there. Winter in Lothlorien was one thing, but up in the mountains the conditions would be truly harsh. A few days later, just two weeks before Yule, they had set off.

It had been odd to be on the road again. The ground felt hard, the established habits were awkward and she ached all over already after the first day in the saddle. The cold seemed to seep into her bones and the food didn't settle well in her belly. When Gisla reminded her of her morning tea with a raised eyebrow of concern, she realised with a sinking heart that the end of this little outing would be unpleasant, as she had forgotten to bring the rags she used during her period. Not to mention that she had been missing days of tea drinking. Fortunately, since she was considered convalescent, she didn't have anything to protect herself against. Kili still treated her as she was made of glass. It had started to annoy her, but right now she was glad for it.

This morning, four days after they had set out from Caras Galadhon, they had ridden the last distance and had made the climb to the gates.

...

Urzul watched the small woman slowly approach the gate to Moria, then stop to stare at it. It was an odd thing, finally facing this creature. It seemed impossible that she could have survived for so long, because the weakness was so obvious. She had nothing to recommend herself. No stature, no bulk – in comparison to the Dwarves she was like a reed – and she had no great charisma. Urzul felt a distinct sense of disappointment. This great foe was just a little girl, nothing more than a fairy.

Urzul turned her eyes to the Dwarves, and the princes in particular. Dwarves had many strange things about them. The fairy girl's presence was an oddity, but Dwarves had previously showed they could be unpredictable with their choices. They always banded together, even against Men and Elves, and on occasion her people had been reluctant, but nonetheless allies to some of the Dwarven clans. However, they were unpredictable and murderous beings, not to be trusted in any way.

She snorted quietly. The girl was perhaps a disappointment in all her fairy glory, but the princes were another matter. The news of their rightful deaths would raise everyone's spirits. It was a pity their uncle was out of reach, but these two were still a great prize.

Urzul raised her bow and carefully took aim. The fairy would die first for maximum painful effect, she decided, and she trained the arrow on her.

...

"Mari!" Kili called out and marched towards her. Mari was yanked out of her reverie and quickly turned towards him. She suddenly cried out and he heard the sound of an arrow as it clattered against the rocks. Next thing he knew, she was on the ground but she didn't appear to be injured as she took shelter and quickly armed herself with her bow. Kili threw himself forward and dove into shelter himself.

"Orcs!" he shouted as a warning to the others, as he gripped his own bow.

" _Pushdug!_ " he heard from a spot near the bridge to the gates, which made him arch an eyebrow. He took careful aim at the spot where the voice had come from and waited. To his left he noted a movement, which he registered as Fili jumping between rocks to draw attention to himself. The next moment he noted someone stirring in the distance, and part of a bow peeked up. How odd, Kili thought absently. They should be swarmed right now, but it seemed more like this was someone who either had their pack lurking in an attempt to lure them out and then swarm them, or they were on their own. The latter seemed inconceivable.

To his right he caught Mari making herself ready for a rush towards his shelter. He threw her a quick glance and a nod, then let his arrow go. Seconds later Mari dove in next to him. An arrow slammed into the rock where she had just been running.

"It's a pack, but they keep a very low profile," Mari panted. "I think the one leading them is a really high-profile one." She darted a glance in the direction from where the arrows came. "What do we do now?"

"We get out of here?" Kili suggested.

"Ha. Ha. No, I really think it's a great idea to ask if they want to come over for some tea and biscuits," she deadpanned.

He smirked at her. "I think they would prefer something meatier."

Despite herself, she snorted and they peered at each other, unable to hide their shared amusement. With a quick tug, he pulled her in and kissed her. "I love you," he breathed, and Mari grinned in reply.

"What are you two doing?" Fili harshly hissed, from where he was hiding.

Kili and Mari turned towards Fili who scowled at them. "Holding an intimate conference about our next course of action?" Kili hissed back.

"How about getting out of here?" Fili retorted.

With a quick glance at each other, Kili and Mari snickered, but quickly sobered as Fili glared at them.

"We were actually thinking the same thing," Mari hurried to say. "It's just that I don't think they will allow us to merely stroll back down the mountain." She swiftly shifted into a better position from where it would be easier to run if she needed to.

An arrow suddenly clanged against the rocks where she had been the moment before. Kili swirled around, putting himself between the archer and Mari and sent an arrow flying. A half-strangled cry indicated to Mari he had managed to hit the offender.

"We really have to get out of here," Kili growled and turned towards Fili who nodded. "Go," he ordered Mari, and sent an arrow to the attackers by the bridge. Throwing herself into a run she kept her head down, trying to make herself as small as she could as she attempted to reach Fili's hideout. She hit the ground hard, scraping her hands against the rock. Ignoring the pain she quickly got on her knees and prepared to cover Kili's run. He didn't waste valuable time, but crossed the short distance with all the speed he could muster. As he arrived at the hiding place he didn't slow down but kept running, aiming for the rocks where Ori was huddling, further away from the bridge.

Mari kept her eyes at the spot by the bridge, trying to catch another glimpse of what seemed to be the leader of this Orc pack. "We have to engage them. They won't let us run off," she quietly said.

"We have no idea how many there are," Fili replied shortly.

"Between six and twelve, as they tend to be, I should think," she said calmly.

"We're five." He scowled at the spot where the Orcs were hiding.

Mari glanced at him and arched her eyebrows. By now she knew Fili very well and could tell that he was about to add this situation to the long list of what he perceived as his failures of late. She quelled a sigh. "We've seen worse," she reminded him and turned her attention back to the invisible Orcs.

...

Urzul cursed as she narrowly missed her target. She quickly sent one of the scouts to ambush the fairy and the dark-haired Dwarf. They seemed to lack any sense of self-preservation as they huddled behind a rock, so occupied with each other they missed the scout coming up from behind. At the second miss, Urzul nearly lost her temper. It was like having a piece of meat dangling in front of the nose, there for the taking, only to have it snatched away as one lunged for it.

The dark-haired Dwarf dispatched her scout, much to her annoyance, and reluctantly she had to admit that they weren't completely incompetent. They retreated quickly and the fairy and the dark-haired split up, covering each other with their bows. So the fairy's bow hadn't only been for show, then, she mused.

This could not continue, however. They were here to kill these Dwarves and the fairy, and with the element of surprise ruined, there was only one thing they could do – charge. She had hoped to avoid this, but it couldn't be helped. Her one comfort was that at least some of her people were seasoned warriors and had done this countless times before. The Dwarf scum and their pet would die and Urzul would have their heads.

"Kill them!" she called out, nocking an arrow herself, taking aim.

...

Fili and Mari whipped their heads around at the guttural words shouted from the bridge. From several spots Orcs appeared, quickly heading towards them. Mari promptly reacted and sent a couple of arrows towards the attackers, but out of practice and still feeling the effects of her injury, her arrows missed their targets. These Orcs were not the cocky kind she had encountered before, either. With a sinking gut, she had to admit that this could become quite dangerous.

Kili had a bit better success, taking down at least one, but it still left them with five Orcs bearing down on them. Fili shot up as the first one reached them and frantically wielded his swords, forcing Mari to keep out of the way. In the corner of her eye she noted the tall Orc she had glimpsed earlier, armed with a bow. Their eyes met and they stared at each other for a beat.

Instinctively, Mari ducked and rolled on the ground as one of the attacking Orcs swung an axe after her. Despite the short distance, Mari shot the arrow she'd had nocked and to her relief, she managed a perfect hit. Reaching for another arrow she scanned the surroundings and found a new target. Keeping a low profile and moving as best she could to not become a sitting duck, she concentrated on being effective, preserving her strength and not straining her muscles too much.

She caught sight of the tall Orc again and her mind stilled. The paleness, the height, the way this Orc moved – it could not be a coincidence. This Orc was related to Azog. Not only that – this was not a male but a female.

Mari landed on her knees, ignoring the pain shooting through her legs as she gripped the stone in front of her, and stared at the other woman. For a fraction of a second Mari was almost overcome with the urge to call out and catch her attention. A thousand questions formed in her mind and she completely forgot that they were fighting a skirmish. The female Orc raised her bow and took aim, and Mari snapped back to reality and she took aim too, shooting without hesitation.

A long string of harsh words that sounded an awful lot like swearing followed and Mari smirked. She had hit her opponent's vambrace, and the Orc ripped the arrow out of the crude construction, throwing a glare around and finding Mari. Mari inclined her head slightly as she unflinchingly met the other woman's eyes. She could have killed the imposing female, but she hadn't. Part of her knew it probably was a mistake, but she simply couldn't bring herself to kill this Orc.

"Mari!" Gisla called out and Mari turned her attention to the others, discovering that their path down the mountain side was clear. She set herself in motion, darting in an erratic zigzag pattern over the limestone, passing Kili who stood ready with his bow. She began counting and at twenty she stopped and turned, raising her bow. Kili broke out into a run, and as he passed her she began counting again, and at twenty she turned and followed Kili.

They all raced down the path, with Mari and Kili covering the retreat until they found their ponies. Mounting them they set off towards Lothlorien as fast as their four legged friends could carry them.

"You think we have lost them?" Ori asked as they paused by one of the small streams to allow the horses to drink.

"Lost them? Hardly," Fili said darkly and glanced up at the mountains behind them. "The question is whether they will pursue."

Mari stared in the same direction as Fili but didn't offer anything.

"I'm becoming quite tired of running into Orcs all the time," Gisla grumbled.

Kili eyed Mari cautiously. "You missed," he murmured as he stepped close.

"I missed several times, in case you didn't notice," she replied, avoiding looking at him.

"But the final miss. . . " he hesitated.

"Wasn't a miss. I put it in her vambrace deliberately," Mari said and bowed down as she ran her hands over the pony's legs, checking for injuries.

"Her?" Kili frowned.

Tugging lightly at the fetlock she persuaded the pony to lift its hoof. She inspected it for shards of rock but found none. "Yes. It was a woman, Kili," she sighed, and moved on to the hind leg.

"Why? Why didn't you kill her?" he asked, taking a small step along with her.

Mari hesitated, putting her hand on the horse's croup. "I'm not sure."

"She's still an Orc," he reminded her.

"I'm aware of that." Her voice had a slight annoyed chill to it. "She's incapacitated for a while at least." Mari raised her eyes and gazed at the mountain. "While she's alive, she's unable to pursue us right now, partly because she's injured but also because she must have lost most if not all of her company. We'll be back in Lothlorien before she is ready to come after us. No harm is done."

Kili nodded slowly as he studied Mari, who still gazed up the mountains. An uneasy feeling took hold and he too stared up at the mountain they had come down from.

...

Urzul tore off her vambrace and examined the wound. It wasn't serious, even if it smarted. She growled at herself as she found the bottle she carried at her belt, tore it open with her teeth, and poured the liquid over the injury. It burned in her wound and she allowed herself to hiss. After drinking the rest of the contents of the bottle, she stared down the mountainside.

She should be dead. She had fallen in the exact same trap as her brother's idiots: arrogance. Yet here she stood, with only a minor injury to show for it. Granted, most of her warriors were dead, and the Dwarves had slipped out of her grasp, but she was alive. The fairy could have put the arrow through her, sealing her fate right here where her father had died, but she hadn't.

Urzul remembered the eye contact they'd had during the skirmish and anger suddenly flared. The little idiot had allowed her to live. Now she'd have to face her brother and admit her failure. Not that honour meant much, but she hated the humiliation, the glee, the sidelong glances and the open criticism and suggestions that she lacked competence. There were many snapping at her heels for a better position and they would gleefully seize the opportunity to tarnish her reputation as a commanding officer.

With a sigh she turned her eyes to the immediate surroundings and set off toward the only one who seemed to be moving – Homraz. She hunched down next to her long-time friend and looked her over before deciding what to do.

"You do know that if you die, I'll kill you?" Urzul asked with a lopsided smile.

Homraz snorted. "Go pester someone else. I'm not dying."

"Maybe not now, but soon enough if I were to leave you." Urzul reached out and helped Homraz into a better position. She had an ugly injury in her abdomen which needed to be stitched and Urzul knew who the offender had been. The blond Dwarf heir. Her hatred threatened to flare up and choke her, but she suppressed it. Such emotions she could allow later, when Homraz' injury had been seen to.

"You'll at least get an impressive scar to show for it," Urzul continued and began digging around to find her supplies.

Homraz let her head fall back with an angry noise. "But we failed. That bastard  _urauk_  of a Dwarf! I want to rip him apart, limb by limb."

Urzul held up a bottle in front of Homraz who scowled at it. "Get in line," she said and started pouring the liquid over the injury. Homraz growled and squeezed her eyes shut. Urzul quickly finished the work and packed away her tools.

"Shel. . . " Homraz panted. The ordeal of being stitched up had left her short of breath and sweat was beading on her forehead, and Urzul reached out and dried her face.

"I'm going to look," Urzul replied.

Homraz screwed her eyes shut, and Urzul suppressed a sigh. Loosing Shel would be difficult for her, but a lot worse for Homraz. She quickly rose and swiftly moved over the rocks. The unmistakable red hair knot that Shel had came into view behind a rock, and Urzul hurried towards her. Swerving around the rock she nearly burst into a chuckle in relief at the sight. Shel sent her a glare.

"Tell me what's so funny about this," Shel demanded, motioning at the arrow through her shoulder.

"That the  _urrûrz ath_  had such poor aim." Urzul sunk down next to Shel and took a closer look. If Urzul had to guess, this was the dark-haired one's work.

"Next time I'll stab him with a Morgul dagger – see how he likes that," Shel grumbled, confirming Urzul's suspicions of who the archer had been.

Urzul raised an eyebrow. "You'd have to get close to him first. Didn't work all that well this time, did it?" She broke the shaft and ignored Shel's hiss.

"By Morgoth, I'll throw it! I don't need to put it in his heart, just hit him."

Urzul pulled the shaft free in one smooth motion and Shel made deep throaty sounds. Dispatching the offensive object she started taking care of the wound, without commenting. Shel glanced up at Urzul.

"Homraz. . . is she. . . ?" Shel lowered her gaze to the ground and Urzul could tell she was steeling herself.

"She's fine. The blond one cut her open, but I have stitched her up." Urzul concentrated on the injury, not acknowledging the obvious relief Shel displayed for a moment. When she was finished she caught Shel's chin and stared the other woman in her eyes.

"Now, go to Homraz. I'll take care of the rest." She grinned at Shel who grinned back. With a slight push Urzul let go of Shel and smoothly got on her feet, allowing Shel to stand on her own. She watched Shel stride over the rocky terrain for a moment before turning her attention to the rest of the fallen warriors. Unsurprisingly, she concluded there were no other survivors, and as she had examined the last one she sank down on her knees and stared down the mountainside towards the Elven kingdom at the distance. The Dwarves and the fairy most likely had some distance left before they made it into the woods, but she couldn't pursue them. It was bitter as willow bark that she had to let them slip away, but she also knew they would have to leave their sanctuary at some point.

Her eyes went to the sky and she could literally taste the snow in the wind. It was time to seek shelter.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Black Speech used:
> 
> Pushdug - dungfilth
> 
> Urauk – hedgehog
> 
> urrûrz ath – despicable dog


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dis arrives in the south.

_Minas Tirith, Gondor, December 2940 TA_

The weather was unpleasant. As the Dwarven caravan had entered Anorien the weather had turned and winter had swept down over them, unexpectedly early. Ice-cold rain in the nights turning into slush had been soaking them the past two days. Conditions were miserable, and it didn't help that Dis was gradually becoming more and more anxious.

Minas Tirith had emerged through the veils of grey rain during the morning hours, and at the shouts alerting them that their destination was close, she had chanced a look from under her hood at the city they were approaching. After that she had kept it firmly pulled down over her face, her eyes on her pony's ears.

...

Seventy-seven years earlier she had been heading in the opposite direction. She had not cried, but with every step taking her from the white city of Men, it was like someone was sawing at her insides with a dull knife. The nausea brought on by pregnancy almost was a blessing, a distraction, giving her something to focus on.

They had reached Edoras before the nausea had stopped plaguing her. That winter they had found a place in a village not too far from Edoras, to the north, and the following summer Kili had been born. Vestri had taken one look at the boy and sighed at what he saw as the likeness to Thorin, and there had been a great relief in his voice when he declared she could name him if she wished.

Unlike her husband all she saw was Celarion in the baby and the name came easily to her – Kili.

The autumn after Kili had turned two and Fili was seven, disaster had struck. They had decided to go to Edoras for some much-needed trade, and the first night in the wild their camp had been overrun. She barely had time to pull the sword that had been hers after Frerin's death. In the melee Vestri's and her eyes had met and she knew she would have to choose: take the lads and ride, or risk death for them all by staying, continuing to fight. What Vestri wished she knew. But she hesitated, holding his gaze.

"Go!" he shouted.

"I can't leave you here!" she cried back.

"Just take the lads and go! Now! Before it's too late!" He dispatched an Orc and turned to her, but before he could say or do anything more, a sword was driven through his chest. The massive Orc behind him yanked it out and turned his eyes on Dis with a grin.

This Orc made the final decision for her. As Vestri sank to his knees, his eyes glazing over, she was already turning and snatching up Fili who screamingly wanted to charge the Orc.

Unceremoniously she flung him up on one of the large destriers the Rohirrim used and put Kili in his arms before he had a chance to throw himself off the horse. If there was one thing that could keep Fili from doing heedless things, it was putting him in charge of his little brother.

Taking the reins she ran until she found one of the large wagons, and using a wheel on one of them, she mounted the horse behind the lads. Grabbing hold of the mane while circling her arms around her children to make certain none of them fell off, she kicked her heels in the sides of the steed, urging it to flee, and flee it did.

They rode hard all night and in the morning they entered Edoras, the first to bring news of the horrors that had hit the north. She'd had nothing but her sons and Frerin's sword, since, as it turned out, the village they'd lived in had been burned to the ground.

Briefly she had considered going back to Minas Tirith, but when Thorin found them she knew she couldn't. He'd never accept an Elf as a foster father for his heir. With a heavy heart she had left the lands in the south to begin a new life in the north west, far away from raiders and Orcs, and she had never expected to come back.

...

The walls rose high above them as they entered the city through the main gate, and she dared to pull back her hood enough to take a peek at them. She had forgotten just how impressive they were, and she drew a deep breath at the sight.

Eager as they all were to finally end their journey, they hurried through the streets to their destination, the stables used by the Dwarves in the Gondor capital. Arriving at the stables, they were greeted by Dwarves living in the city, flocking to help the newcomers and to hear the latest news and gossip from Ered Luin. Dis steered her mount to the edge of the bustle, keeping the hood far down over her face.

Though many years had passed since she left, she had lived here for quite some time, and she wasn't just any Dwarf. She was granddaughter of Thror and sister of the current king-in-exile. People could get ideas if they realised she was here. She trusted the Broadbeams she had travelled with to keep her identity a secret, but someone living in the city might still recognise her.

Slowly and stiffly she dismounted and stood for a while by the pony, scratching it behind its ear as she allowed her feet to adjust to having firm stone under her boots again. Absently she turned and let her eyes wander over the small plaza in front of the stables, now filled with buzzing activity.

Not twelve yards from her, a cloaked figure stood in the semi-darkness of an alley leading from the plaza, leaning against the wall. The cloak clasp caught her attention, and her breath hitched in recognition. The figure slowly moved from the deep shade and pulled back the hood enough to reveal the face. How and when her eyes had moved upward from the clasp to the owner's face she did not know, but they had and she was now staring straight into familiar brown eyes.

If she'd had a heart before it had very few similarities with the thing that occupied her chest at present. It was a hammer, and it felt like it would beat holes in her ribcage, not to mention how it drowned out all the noise around her. Her hand clenched the reins in her hand until her knuckles were white, and she was only vaguely aware that her short nails dug into her palm.

She had not made herself any images of this meeting. She had simply not dared to do it. Now when she was here, she had no idea how to act and what to do. Seconds as long as the Second Age ticked by as she stood still like cut in the marble the city was built in, as the rain slowly turned into sleet. Even at a distance there was an intensity about him, though he was as still as she was, and it pulled at her like a lodestone.

Releasing the reins she drew a deep breath to begin to move, only to be startled by a voice next to her.

"Do you require assistance, my lady?"

Dazed, she turned her attention to one of the younger members of the caravan who had moved near and now stood by the horse's head, with a hand gently resting on its neck while the animal sniffed around his pockets.

"Yes, please," she replied, her voice hoarse. Clearing her throat she continued, "If something could be arranged with the packs. . . "

The young Dwarf nodded. "An address and it will be delivered there before evening."

Dis smiled, relieved. "I'll send a message once I have it confirmed."

With a short nod, the young man began leading the pony towards the stable. It followed without second thought, still nipping at the lad's pockets, making her smile.

The corner was empty as she turned her attention back to it, and she hissed slightly in disappointment.

" _Iston i nîf gîn._ " The words were spoken very close, to her left, startling her to nearly trip over her own feet as she twisted around. A steadying hand found her elbow, saving her from making an embarrassing tumble.

"I would think so, yes," she replied quietly. She looked up, and a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "And I know yours, Celarion." Her voice was a near whisper.

"We should not linger here. You must be wet right through after the past days' poor weather," he replied quietly.

She made a face. "Last night was unpleasant to say the least," she admitted. "We managed to reach the Druadan Forest before it went completely dark, but it gave little shelter. Hard to get a fire going under these conditions. Even for a Dwarf," she added dryly.

Gently he steered them away from curious eyes and within seconds they were heading down a narrow and winding alley. They walked in silence. Partly it was because she didn't know what to say in this moment, but also because Celarion never had been a man of many words in public. With their added eagerness to go undetected, it seemed sensible to not speak.

It was with great relief Dis could finally pull down the hood and unclasp her cloak. With a displeased noise in the back of her throat she looked at it once it was off her shoulders. Celarion took it from her with a small smile.

"Leave it. I'll have it taken care of," he said and turned as a young blond man appeared, seemingly from nowhere. She gave him a suspicious look as Celarion gave him instructions. The blond disappeared and Celarion smiled knowingly at her.

"Ruinir has worked for me the past seven years at least. He's efficient, steady and not prone to gossip."

She nodded slowly. "Young," she commented.

"Looks younger than he is. Come. You need to warm up." He turned and led the way into the house and with a small smile she followed.

...

A warm bath later she dressed in a simple linen robe, tying the belt snugly at her waist. She had expected it to be too large for her, but as she put it on, she realised it was made to her size and there was no need to fold the sleeves or hitch it up to not trip on the hem. With her hair wrapped in a towel she slipped out of the bathroom and padded towards the parlour. It was empty, but a fire cheerily danced on the hearth and tea had been brought.

Quickly she crossed the floor to the chair closest to the fire, sat down and poured herself a mug of tea, then sat back with her feet off the floor, propped up on a footstool. With both her hands wrapped around the elegant mug, she slowly tasted the drink, so familiar to her but one she hadn't had in oh-so-many years. Though her belly still was nervously coiled, she was quite content.

A quiet conversation between Celarion and Ruinir somewhere in the house drifted through the open doors to the parlour she was in. Listening idly for a while, she realised the servant had claimed her baggage and was concerned about its state. She sighed and some of her contentment evaporated. Her packs needed to be dealt with. Slipping her feet onto the floor she slowly put down the mug to get out of the very comfortable armchair she was sitting in.

Celarion strode into the room and raised an eyebrow at her. "No need to rise from that chair," he said and took a seat next to her.

She motioned vaguely towards where she had heard them. "My things, they must be seen to."

"Something you don't need to do." He smiled slightly at her, with amusement twinkling in his eyes.

"But he'll find out. . . " She quieted at his low laughter.

"He already knows. And you were always far too beautiful to be taken for a male. He would have known the moment he saw you."

Dis' cheeks coloured slightly.

"You've changed so little," he sighed, and reached out and let his fingers touch her cheek lightly.

She caught his hand and pressed it to her cheek as she sighed. It wasn't true that she hadn't aged, but it could have been a lot worse. "Life has not been bad. Once we left the south, life was decent. Calm. Steady. Orderly. Everything my life had never been until then. We weren't exactly rich, but we had enough. It was, to be honest, much better than the circus Ered Luin would have been."

"Circus?" he asked.

"Thorin settled there shortly after we left the south. Got himself a proper court. Nothing like Erebor, of course, but good enough." She sighed deeply and glanced at him. Slowly she pressed her lips against his knuckles with their eyes locked.

"I never developed any appreciation for pomp and circumstance however." She smirked. "Nor politics."

She let his hand go and unwrapped her hair and shook it out, blushing slightly. "Not completely unchanged," she said and looked down.

Her long curly, nearly black hair had fine streaks of silver. Not quite as much as her brother, but it was there.

He sighed. "You are mortal," he murmured.

Snapping up her head, she studied him. He looked exactly the same as he had 80 years ago when they had first met, and she knew he'd continue to look the same for many years to come.

"Well, I plan on living for a while yet," she replied dryly.

He smiled sadly at her and she rolled her eyes at him. "I only just arrived and you're already mourning my passing? A wee bit too gloomy for my taste, if I may say so."

"I apologise. And you are right." He shook off the sadness. "I must ask though, will you stay?"

The atmosphere instantly grew tense. "I don't know if I can stay here indefinitely," she replied weakly.

"I was not talking about Minas Tirith. It's simply a location."

Her mouth went dry, and she nervously wetted her lips, a motion that didn't go unnoticed. As his eyes went back to meet hers, they had darkened, and she was thankful she was already sitting down.

"I was hoping that what was impossible then, is possible now." Her voice was nearly a whisper.

Celarion leaned forward, seized her hand and firmly pulled her out of the chair she was in, and guided her around to sit in his lap, circling her waist with his free arm. He repeated what she had done minutes before, and kissed her knuckles, then let go of her hand, and pushed his fingers into her thick hair. Only a couple of inches apart they gazed into each other's eyes.

Dis closed the distance between them unhurriedly and brushed her lips against his, once, twice and then they both moved to kiss.

_Minas Tirith, Gondor, May 2863 TA_

"It's impolite to hiss at him. He may be an Elf, but that's no reason to act like that." The well-known female voice reached Celarion through the open doors to the yard, and he couldn't help smiling. It was Dis, who had her workshop next door, and she was chiding her little boy.

"Wasn't like that!" the boy protested, and Celarion felt he had to intervene and defuse the situation. With a few strides he reached the doors and spotted them just outside. They both looked up as he cleared his throat, Fili brightening and Dis flushing embarrassedly. The four-year-old little Dwarfling was quite the sight with his wooden sword and a knitted hat in the shape of a Dwarven helmet.

"We were in fact only playing," Celarion offered mildly, looking first at Fili and then turning to Dis, adding a small smile.

"He's the dragon, mam!" Fili exclaimed with glowing eyes.

Dis turned her eyes to the boy in exasperation. "How children come up with these things. . . " she breathed.

Celarion shrugged. "Rooms filled with metals, a large opening to the outside with sizeable doors – no I can't see how that could be turned into Erebor in a child's mind, one who is ready to take on a foe with his wooden sword," he deadpanned.

The woman standing just a few yards from him coloured again. Only then it occurred to him she might not find it amusing at all.

"I apologise. I did not mean to insult," he hurried to say, now quite sincere.

Dis seemed startled. "Every Dwarfling will play out an attack on Smaug at some point." She glanced at the open doors leading inside. "And you're quite right. There is a likeness between your workshop and Erebor. If a slight one," she added and their eyes met again, and this time he held her gaze. The familiar simmer of emotions just under her calm surface never failed to make him feel somewhat off kilter, though not in a negative way.

A few years earlier he had met her eyes across the yard the first time and had known that her soul was of the kindred sort, the kind he had long since ceased to look for. It had taken him another few moments to take in that not only was she mortal, but a Dwarf at that. He had closed his eyes and willed her out of his mind. Better to do it now before anything took root that he wouldn't be able to rid himself of later. It was a bitter thing though, having to turn away when he finally found one who would make his soul sing, if he'd allow it.

Impossible. It should have been impossible.

It turned out that this woman would not be easy to avoid, and subsequently kept from his mind. He could almost hear fate snickering at him when he discovered she had rented the workshop next to his.

He'd soon learned who she was, and to his surprise he also found she was married, something he could see no trace of in her heart, as he tentatively searched it. A Dwarven princess by birth, but hardly living as one now because of a dragon, dutifully married because her family willed it. Her loneliness was like a tang in the air, making it even more difficult for him to not reach out.

With his near three millennia of life experience he'd believed he knew everything there was to know about Dwarven women, but he quickly found he'd been quite mistaken. No Elf with dignity would admit finding a Dwarf beautiful, but Dis was, by any standard. She was surprisingly tall for a Dwarf. It seemed to run in the family, as he discovered once he found himself face to face with the newly minted king-in-exile, her brother. Granted, he was not among the taller Elves, but it had been mildly astounding that she in fact reached to his chin – a hairsbreadth under five feet tall.

Though her knee-long belted tunics and trousers revealed that she wasn't built like the Dunedain and most definitely not like an Elf, he was surprised to find that the commonly-held opinion that all Dwarven females were stocky and trunk-like had little to do with reality. Dis was sturdy, but it was all muscles and she certainly did not lack curves.

With large dark-grey eyes, a straight nose, a becoming outline to her face, and lips neither thin nor full revealing straight white teeth when she smiled, her face framed with near-black curly hair, and a skin that seemed to have a slight tan from sun even in the depth of winter, she was even more striking than Lord Elrond's daughter in his eyes.

The only thing that seemed to be true about all the things he'd learned about Dwarf women was the fact that she did have facial hair. Not the bushy masses most males had, oh no. What she had was neatly trimmed short; lining her jaw down to her chin, with a tip up her cheek giving a subtle hint at framing her mouth. It should have seemed odd in his eyes, he mused, but on her it wasn't.

Elves were no strangers to jewellery, though they typically wore only one or two items. Dwarves had a somewhat different approach, and looking at the Dwarves he previously had ignored, he concluded that they truly liked to decorate themselves, often in ways Elves would never consider. Wearing a ring or a necklace was one thing, tattoos and pierced skin something else entirely.

As far as Celarion could tell, Dis did not revel in jewellery. She had a few beads in her hair, and like her brother she had a couple items adorning her ears, but there were no rings on her fingers, nor any other visible accessories.

However, during the first warm days after opening her workshop, it had been revealed that though she didn't wear much visible metal and stone jewellery, she did have the skin-deep kind. Snaking up her arms from her wrists, an elaborate ornate band in black ink was exposed as she folded up the tunic's sleeves.

He shouldn't find it as tantalising as he did.

It had been quite enough that he'd known at first glance that she was intelligent, had a fiery and empathic depth under the calm and estimable surface, as well as a dry sense of humour. This outer shell left him completely defenceless. And clearly Vestri, her husband, was equally enamoured.

While Dis had married out of convenience, the blond Dwarf truly loved her. Celarion knew, but he could not help himself. Drawn like a moth to searing light he sought her out, which due to the proximity of their respective workshops wasn't difficult, nor seemed very strange, despite him being an Elf and her a Dwarf. At first she had been reserved, though polite, but eventually friendship had blossomed, and though it should not have pleased him, considering the situation, he could tell that he had a place in her heart her husband never had occupied.

Thus had been the state of things for just over two years. Of late however, he had noticed a slight shift. The camaraderie they had was still there, though an undercurrent of a discord he didn't quite understand had developed. It was a Dwarven thing, he recognised, but what it meant he couldn't tell.

Celarion was aware that Vestri wanted more children, though Dis didn't speak about this with him. During winter and spring it had been debated with increasing intensity, though for now discussions were adjourned. What that had to do with him, he had yet to understand, but with the increasing intensity of those deliberations, the more tension towards himself he sensed.

Dis herself was reluctant and there were several reasons for this. She'd have to give up work during her pregnancy and for a while after the child had been born, something she was reluctant to do. Though the family wasn't considered poor, it would be costly to keep the workshop and Vestri – slightly insensitively in Celarion's opinion – had declared it was simple enough to rent another once she could pick up her line of work again, if they let the current one go. Dis was not in favour of vacating. Her arguments were all sound, though she left out one important one, the loss of proximity to him, Celarion.

Dis and Vestri did not have much of a marital life. Celarion would never have known for certain had he not been mostly Elvish, and High Elf at that. One could have guessed, considering it was a marriage of convenience at least on her part, and he knew many in the community assumed as much.

But he  _was_  an Elf, and had both excellent hearing and could search hearts and souls, and he shamelessly exploited both those senses to keep himself informed about what was happening in Dis' life, something he otherwise avoided doing.

Intellectually Vestri knew Dis had bowed to her family's wishes, but he loved her the way any male Dwarf would his One, and from time to time there were rows. Not of the loud and obnoxious kind, but of the quiet bitter variety, where Vestri damned his fate to have everything and yet nothing, while Dis calmly stated he had chosen it himself. She had been a dutiful daughter and married him and as wife she did what was expected though she did not in fact love him, and that was all anyone could ask of her.

He mused over the change towards him as he watched Dis cheek tinge red for no apparent reason.

"See mam? Celarion doesn't mind!" Fili grinned.

"Fili, you should not startle him. He needs steady hands and a jolt from an attack of a brave Dwarven warrior could spoil many hours of effort," Dis explained. "Promise me you will be mindful."

Fili nodded and looked down at his boots, looking subdued. "Yes, mam," he murmured.

Celarion felt the boy's gloom and quickly lowered himself down on one knee to his level. "Fili?" He caught the lad's attention. "Perhaps we could play some later after I have closed for the day? Some hide and seek?"

Fili lit up. "Could we spar some?" he asked.

Celarion smirked. "We could, though I doubt I could withstand such a formidable warrior as yourself."

Fili laughed and lunged himself into Celarion's arms for a quick hug. "Thank you!" he exclaimed and bolted away, clearly in search of some of his friends.

"You're welcome," Celarion sighed as he watched the blond boy disappear.

"You don't have to-" Dis began but quieted as he sent her another long look. "He's missing his da," she added, hinting an apology for Fili's behaviour.

Vestri was travelling north to Ered Luin this summer, had left in late spring a month earlier, and would not be back until autumn – in time for harvest feast at the earliest. Celarion had noticed that the boy was seeking his company more now, and had come to the same conclusion.

He rose to his feet. "I don't do it out of pity or obligation. You know I like the boy," he said evenly.

She nodded and dropped her gaze, crossing her arms over her chest as she did. The defensive stance did not go unnoticed by him. Glancing around the yard, he concluded there were too many people about for any inquiries. It would have to wait.

Giving her a nod, he went back inside to continue the day.

As he closed his shop in the evening, he became occupied with the little blond four-year-old and as he wasn't going to fish for information on her own doorstep, he simply returned the boy in time for the evening meal and went home.

...

He had just sat down with a book in an alcove window, open to the balmy night outside, when a determined knock on his front door sounded. With a slight frown and prayers to Yavanna for no one to be injured or ill, he quickly made it to the door and opened it. The sight greeting him rendered him speechless. In the blue Lothron night stood Dis, carefully covered in a long cloak and with the hood pulled up. She gazed solemnly up at him as he stared down at her.

"Would you please allow me to enter?" Dis asked quietly, and without a word he stepped aside and let her slip past him, shutting the door firmly behind her.

For long heartbeats they simply stood looking at each other and he knew that what he had felt simmering under the surface had for some reason boiled over.

"I sincerely hope nothing has happened," he finally managed.

"Fili is fine. Asleep. The maid is keeping an eye on him," she replied.

He nodded, keeping his senses in check. Since he could guess the reason for her presence, they had little use.

"I will tell you something about us," she said as she slid down the hood and then unclasped the cloak, dropping it to the floor where she stood. She had her gaze fixated on him and even if he had wanted to, he could not have looked away.

"We love but once. Once that flame is set afire, there is no going back. We are bound to that one person the rest of our lives." The belt and wrap wool tunic came off next, landing on top of the cloak, leaving her in a sheer, lose, wide-necked shirt which left little to imagination. His eyes trailed a tattoo it disclosed, running from her outer shoulder, disappearing under the shirt but still faintly visible, down between her breasts, and then back up to the other shoulder, forming a V. It was the very one he had spied spiralling up her arms.

Celarion clenched his jaw and drew a deep breath through his nose.

"I have fought this the past two years, but I cannot fight my heart any longer. I have accepted that hardships are my lot in life and I have shouldered that burden. I will continue doing so until my life ends. But this is one of the few things that are good in my life. It shouldn't be, but it is, and I'm not going to continue denying it."

He knew all the good reasons why he should stop her now, but his body felt like lead, including his tongue. He was only able to watch as she discarded her boots, and all the rational reasons ran off with common sense, leaving him bereft of anything to stop what was about to happen.

As the second boot thumped down on the floor, she slowly advanced towards him, and finally Celarion found his voice.

"We are not so unlike after all," he murmured. "I'm bound too, if a certain line is crossed."

She stopped a couple of feet from him and a small smile lit up her face. "You Elves do not keep secrets like we do. I already knew."

"And I should end this. Now," he sighed, slowly raised his hand and touching one of her two long and thick braids trailing down over her collarbones.

"I'm only standing here," she pointed out dryly.

"You shouldn't even be here." There was an edge to his voice, matching the warning in his eyes.

Dis said nothing, only straightened her shoulders and raised her chin slightly. Her eyes were challenging him to do it, to make her leave. She had said her piece and wasn't going to argue, much less beg.

Swiftly he tugged lose the ribbon hindering her left braid from untangling, then removed the ribbon on her other braid too. She kept her unwavering gaze on him as he with deft fingers released her hair from the braids. As his fingers slowed, still tangled in her thick curly hair, she closed the distance between them, reached up for his face, elevated herself up on her toes and pulled him in, claiming his lips without a hint of hesitation.

...

Five months they had, until Dis left Minas Tirith, and as he stood watching her leave, he thought he'd never see her again. He would know when she no longer walked the face of Middle Earth, and he decided, as she passed the gates to Pelennor Fields, that he would not leave for Valinor when that day came, but allow himself to fade.

_Minas Tirith, Gondor, 2940 TA_

Dis was stretched out on the quite comfortable bed, on her back, not wearing anything, not even a sheet. Despite this she was quite comfortably warm though the heavy rain outside was slowly turning into snow. It was dark though it was only late afternoon; the room was only sparsely lit from the open fire warming the room and a lamp on a table nearby.

A slight touch running from her shoulder over her chest, tracing the tattooed band on her skin, made her slowly open her eyes. Through her eyelashes she glanced to her side and a small smile quirked the corners of her mouth.

"I used to dream about when you did that," she murmured. "And then I would wake up and it would feel like I was going to break in two." She sighed.

"I had such moments too," Celarion admitted.

"It feels unreal. I keep expecting to wake up any second."

The feathery touch quickly turned into a firm grip on her waist and she was pulled into a tight embrace. She snorted and started nipping his skin below his ear. Deliberately she followed his spine downward with her fingers as she turned her careful attention to his ear. Once she reached his lower back she began painting slow circles, which made him tense slightly, pressing more snugly against her.

A low rumbling laugh shook him. "You keep doing that and you will have another confirmation of my physical existence."

She wrapped her free arm and leg around him and rolled onto her back, coaxing him along with her. He propped himself up to look down at her as she adjusted them both and then wrapped both legs around him, purposely writhing her hips, languidly and relaxed.

"Sounds like a promise to me," she smirked and gave him a wide eyed look. She slipped her feet down over his backside, hooking her heels over his thighs and continued to unhurriedly twist and tease.

Gradually he pulled back, decreasing the pressure. Because she had him in the hooked grip with her heels, she slid down an inch and in response she tilted her hips upwards. The moment he slipped free, he firmly pushed into her and she gasped slightly. "I keep my promises," he replied. She only smiled and arched her back, tightening her muscles in response.

Their pace was still quite urgent, despite having spent the entire afternoon in bed, and it was soon over. As he pulled out he simply dropped himself down again with his head over her heart, and she buried one hand in his hair, slowly pushing her fingers through the slightly wavy long hair.

"I feel irresponsible," he murmured.

She arched her eyebrows. "You do?"

He sighed. "You still have, what? Seventy years or so? You could still bear a child, couldn't you?"

Her eyebrows sank back to their usual positions. "Yes," she replied hesitantly. "For another twenty years. Possibly more. Could be as much as forty."

Celarion didn't move, nor did he say anything. It was time for some honesty, Dis decided.

"That summer and autumn I didn't use the protection I otherwise utilised."

He raised his head and stared at her.

"Everyone was so certain it simply couldn't happen. Dwarves having children with Elves was a ludicrous concept," she continued.

"Well, we know better now," he snorted.

She smiled weakly. She didn't dare to put into words that she had hoped everyone was wrong, and that the knowledge that she would keep a part of Celarion made her situation tolerable once she had left.

He put his ear back over her heart and sighed. "You did it on purpose," he murmured.

She stiffened and her breath caught.

"Breathe," he ordered. "Even if I couldn't look into your heart, I'd strongly suspect you did. I only wish you hadn't been forced to leave, or at least that you could have come back."

"I should have defied Thorin." Regret nearly broke her voice.

"And lost Fili?" He tightened his hold on her.

"We don't know he would have taken him. He could have made Dain's line heirs if he couldn't accept my choice."

"And your husband's family?"

Dis pressed her lips tightly together. Now they had been the real threat.

"Don't regret your decision to settle in the north. You gave Fili and Kili a good childhood."

"I don't think I can marry you," she suddenly said.

He raised his head again to look at her. "We are already married."

"That's not going to be recognised by anyone but the Elves," she retorted dryly. She sighed. "Do you know what your son has done?"

Celarion shook his head.

"He put courting braids in Mari's hair. I thought I was going to have a heart attack when she revealed them and how it had happened. He just went ahead and did it. After they had ended up in bed together."

Suddenly a wide toothy grin split his face, taking her breath away. She had seen it before, but it was not a common occurrence, and she was stunned to be reminded from whom Kili had inherited his bright smiles.

"Now there's an idea," he mused.

She simply gave him an exasperated stare.

His eyebrows travelled a fraction upwards. "Perhaps Kili is on to something. Making it apparent to everyone that he's sincere, forcing the issue." He paused for a moment and all amusement was gone. "I do mean it. If it matters it deserves your full attention and effort."

Slowly his head sank down on her chest again. "We have many things to discuss and decide, but they can wait a day or so. Right now I simply wish to savour the moment."

"I'll find that tea. Should still be easily available considering the Dwarven community is still here."

"Tea?" he murmured.

"The kind keeping Kili from having a sibling," she said gently. "It should ease your conscience about feeling reckless."

There was no reaction, positive or negative – he simply breathed calmly. Her eyes travelled to the ceiling above and she too stayed silent. Celarion was right. They had things to decide, but they could wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Sindarin used:
> 
> Iston i nîf gîn – I know your face


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to Erebor! Mari finally speaks some about her past life, and a certain Hobbit enters the story. He brings news. Bad news.

_Erebor, 2941 TA, November 16_ _th_ _, 23 days after Smaug's death_

Dwalin sat listlessly poking at his morning porridge. Beige. Sticky. Looking very unappetising, in particular since it most likely was cold by now. Surreptitiously he glanced around, letting his eyes wander over the familiar faces around the table.

A few were missing, as usual. Nori, naturally. Kili too. The former was most likely in the refectory scooping up this sludge for the other inhabitants in the mountain. The latter was probably there as well, but sitting at some table cheerfully chatting away.

Dwalin almost snorted at the thought. Never had he thought he'd see that lad use his cheerful and friendly disposition in such a blatantly deceiving manner. It actually hurt his heart a little seeing it, because as real as it looked, Dwalin knew it wasn't. There were moments when Dwalin wondered if loyalty was worth twisting oneself to that degree.

Loyalty. Another thing he was struggling with. He had been the one to send Thorin to an isolated chamber. He had personally chained up his old friend and king. Afterwards he had slipped away for a few minutes to compose himself. It wouldn't do to cry in front of people he was supposed to command.

He had committed treason. It had been with the best of intentions, but plenty of good intentions had led to ruin and destruction, and so could this. His intentions had been good when they had travelled through Mirkwood too, but in hindsight he had to agree with Thorin – he had been wrong. So what made this decision any better?

Dwalin's eyes landed on Fili, finished with his meal and leaning against the backrest of his chair, vacantly staring at the opposite wall. It had all been for him. And for Kili. The future of this reclaimed kingdom. Not for a second did he trust the Iron Hills chieftain and in a coup, Fili and Kili would be the first to be targeted. Thorin was his oldest friend, but those two lads were like his own sons. He had always taken great care not to hint how he really saw them, but during the past years he had finally admitted the truth to himself – they were as dear to him as if they had been truly his.

It had been a difficult situation, that time so many years ago. When the news came of the death of Dis' husband, Vestri, Dwalin had been torn. Vestri had been a good Dwarf and it grieved him that his sons lost their father. But it had been difficult to watch Dis, who clearly did not love Vestri, still choose to marry the blond Longbeard.

For years he had hoped she would see  _him_ , and choose  _him_ , and it was a blow when Thorin told him. She had chosen another. After the wedding he had not visited her. Not once. Thorin had never commented on it, but after Dwalin sullenly had declined to accompany him on his journey to Minas Tirith twice, he ceased asking Dwalin to come along.

There was no avoiding news though. Dis bore her husband sons and as glad he was that there was a new generation growing up, envy and jealousy ate him. Then, suddenly, a bird arrived. He had seen the change in Thorin's face as he had read the message, and he had feared the worst. Unseemly relief and hope filled him when he learned that Dis and the lads were safe and in Edoras, and only later would he give a thought to the now-deceased Vestri.

Thorin had immediately gone to the Rohirrim town and for the first time in nine years, Dwalin joined his friend. They had not spoken about any reasons for Dwalin's decision, and quite frankly, at such a time it would have been odd if he hadn't gone with Thorin. But whatever hope he had secretly harboured until that moment, it died the instant they came to Edoras. Vestri had not been her One, but somewhere she had found a One – Dwalin simply knew.

With suspicion he had watched the younger of her sons, so different from his brother, for signs that he could have another father. The toddler looked like his mother however – almost disturbingly so, like a girl. He hid his emotions and agreed to travel with Dis as she headed north, later joined by Dori and his little brother Ori.

The arrangement was only supposed to be for the journey, but as Dis decided to set up home in the Shire, Dwalin had stayed, having been asked to do so by Thorin. By then the two boys had already wormed their way into his heart. He found he could not leave, neither them nor Dis.

Until a few days ago his loyalty to Thorin had never truly been tested, he realised. When it finally was, it had nearly crushed him. He could only hope he would never again face such a choice. Looking up from the meal in front of him, he realised that both Balin and Fili were watching him with the same look of concern in their gazes.

Clenching his jaw he drew a deep breath and tried to reassure them with his eyes. His decision was made and he would see it through. He had not been blind to the changes in his old friend, and in this Balin had agreed with him. That Balin worried over him didn't concern him. Balin always did. That Fili showed the same attention to his state of mind, was another matter. Fili also needed all the support and reassurance he could get. Dwalin would have to pull himself together.

Bofur was the first one to rise from the table and take his leave. As he headed towards the door, he slowed his steps for a moment while passing Dwalin, reached out, and pressed the man's shoulder briefly. Dwalin lowered his eyes and contained a wince. He had allowed far too much of his inner turmoil to show.

Within minutes only Balin remained by the table and the air left Dwalin's lungs in one shuddering sigh. He leaned heavily on his elbows as he covered his face with his hands.

"Aye. These are difficult times indeed," Balin said quietly.

Dwalin rubbed his face with his hands, and when he withdrew them he sighed. "A mountain. A dragon. How hard could it be? We were ta reclaim it and rebuild or die tryin'."

Balin nodded. "Life is rarely that simple."

"I was nawt cut out fer these things. Give me an enemy with weapons in hand and I'll beat him. That I know how ta do. This?" Dwalin turned his tired eyes to the walls around them and shook his head.

His words were met with a slight smile from his brother. "It may yet come to that. The rest you can leave to me."

"Don't try ta pull any wool over my eyes," Dwalin groused. "Plotting and manipulatin' – aye, I have ta do that too. Keeping my face straight while doing it. I never understood how you do it – with a smile on yer lips no less."

"It's simply a facial expression. Useful. Very useful. As it seems our laddie Kili has realised as well." Balin smiled and tilted his head. Dwalin shook his head, but chose not to comment.

"I know it's eating you, brother. I'm well acquainted with the same feeling, but we cannot allow ourselves to drown in it. Face forward. One step at the time. Trudge on. It's the only way to do it." Balin sighed. "Simple, yet so difficult."

Their eyes met over the table as seconds ticked by.

"Have you seen him?" Balin asked. "Thorin," he added to clarify.

Dwalin averted his eyes and shook his head. "Nawt since I chained him up."

"You should. For him  _and_  for yourself."

"I don't know. . . what ta say." Dwalin stared down at his hands resting on the table.

"There's no need for any epic words. Simple talk would suffice. But I'm very sincere, brother. He would appreciate a visit from you."

"Hard to imagine."

"You think it was easy for Kili to go there immediately after Thorin had woken up?" Balin grunted. "The lad took the worst of it. The rest of us can simply reap the benefits of Mari's constant work and Kili breaking the ice."

Balin heaved himself up on his feet and straightened his clothes, making certain he looked presentable. Slowly he crossed the floor, and clapped Dwalin on the shoulder.

"Come along. I'll walk you at least part of the way."

"Yer nawt letting this go, are ye?" Dwalin sighed.

"No," was Balin's simple reply.

With a small nod, Dwalin finally stood too, pushing back the chair properly and stretching himself to his full height. Sitting for long periods did not really agree with him, he absently thought. Nudging him, Balin motioned for him to start moving and reluctantly he strode towards the door.

...

The knock on the door had both Mari and Thorin looking up. It was a loud knock, yet apprehensive somehow, and Mari quickly glanced back at Thorin. She was pretty certain she knew who this was, and judging by the look on his face, she concluded that he was most likely thinking of the same person.

She got out of the chair and quickly made for the door, gripping the handle firmly and all but yanked the door open. For a moment she stared at the tall warrior in front of her, but then a wide grin split her face and she stepped forward, being caught in a bone crushing hug as was Dwalin's habit to greet her.

When he allowed her feet to come in contact with the floor again she gripped his arm firmly and pulled him inside, not allowing him to hesitate. She even kicked the door closed so she didn't have to slow down.

Thorin was still sitting down, staring at them with a strange look on his face; eyebrows slightly raised, and eyes wider than usual. It took her a split second before she realised it was insecurity that was stamped all over Thorin's features.

"Have you eaten yet?" she asked, turning back to Dwalin, trying for some kind of normality. She suppressed a wince as she saw the same dumbstruck look on his face, and then she busied herself with pulling up a chair. A scraping sound had her looking back at Thorin, who slowly rose from his seat. She paused her motions and watched them apprehensively, ready to dart towards the door.

"Dwalin," Thorin slowly said with a scratchy voice. Time seemed to slow down and Mari stood rooted in place, staring at them, wondering what would come next.

The stillness was broken by sudden movement and loud voices. She blinked, and realised that the flurry of motion were the two going through some greeting she had never seen before. Laughter filled the room and she sank down on her chair with a wan smile, pulling a deep breath of relief.

Dwalin ate with good appetite, while he and Thorin discussed the current situation. To her surprise Dwalin did not hold back, but made all sorts of observations, as if this had been the kitchen table back in the Shire. Slowly she relaxed as she listened, even if some of the things Dwalin had to say were anything but pleasant. Suddenly she wished she didn't know, that they could go back to being entirely cut off from the world outside.

After an hour, Dwalin took his leave and Mari absently started clearing the table. Her thoughts went to the time before she had come here, and though it was taking on a decidedly dishonest rose-tinted quality, it was at least true that her problems had been of a different kind. Most definitely not as dire either.

"You are far away," Thorin said quietly, breaking her string of thoughts.

She looked down at him, where he sat studying her. With a quick apologetic smile she replied, "I was thinking of home." Filling up the tray and brushing up crumbs, disposing them over the bowls, she picked the tray up and carried it to the door, balanced it on her left hand and forearm as she opened it and handed the tray to the guard outside.

"Why don't you simply kick at the door? He'd open for you and you'd not have to balance the tray," he asked.

With a faint smile she sat down on the edge of her chair. "It's no problem. It's not heavy really. I can carry much more in my left hand than a tray with a few bowls and cups."

"And an iron cauldron."

She shrugged. "It's all about balance. Yes, I have a limit, of course I have, but balance is the key. Ten plates, cutlery, napkins under the arm, a stack of glasses. . . Every day during lunch service in the less fancy joints I worked at, lap after lap. Wine bottles are the hazardous bastards really. Bottle after bottle – twist, twist, twist." She mimicked the turning motion when boring a wine opener into the cork of a bottle. "Already by twenty-five some begin to feel it in their right-hand wrist, if they have been working since they were nineteen."

Gazing down at her hands resting in her lap, her smile faltered. "You're worn out. It's heavy, spaces are cramped, which forces you to bend and twist yourself in ways that aren't good for you in the first place, but when you add weight to it. . . Back problems are almost a certainty. Neck and shoulders." Holding her right hand in front of her face she looked absently at it. "Wrists become inflamed. Joints. The skin on your hands dries out with all the water and chemicals you constantly dip your hands in. Eczema is common. Gastritis – most get it sooner or later because of the stress."

She let her hand sink back into her lap. "Very few can keep up the pace after forty. So what do you do then? Most jobs that don't necessarily require an education are like that. You simply don't last until you're sixty-five. Not without breaking your body anyway."

"When I think about that, this life seems pretty good in comparison. But then. . . " She paused and raised her eyes, giving him a fleeting smile. "Strategy games were never my favourite pastime. And I'm definitely not a gifted manipulator. When I'm reminded of the downsides to Middle Earth I long for thirteen hours on my feet, just. . . running."

In her mind's eye she saw the restaurant she had been working in before she had died – the sea of tables with white table cloths, the dark wooden floors, expensive Picasso on the walls, exquisitely lit of course, and the floor to ceiling windows towards the river just outside. She smirked as the second manager swept past in her memory, dressed in a grey suit and burgundy tie, hounding her about something.

"Arrogant bastard," she mumbled and rolled her eyes.

"I don't think I have ever heard you speak this openly about your past."

Like a bubble bursting, the images her memory had conjured were gone and her eyes refocused and landed on Thorin. She opened her mouth to speak, only to hesitate for a moment.

"I suppose not," she finally agreed.

"Why?" he pressed.

"Well. . . " She brought her hand from her lap to the table surface where she began tracing the patterns in the wood. "Though you didn't exactly come across as upper-class. . . " She threw him a quick glance. "All right, you did. But not Fili, Kili, Ori, Dis, Dwalin and Dori. I  _knew_  who you were. I could forget about it on an everyday basis, but. . . I knew. And I was anything but. I was working class."

They were both silent for a long while. Mari continued to trace the pattern on the table surface, refusing to look up.

"Working with your hands is nothing to be ashamed of," he said quietly.

She pressed the palm against the table, staring at it. "It's not that. It's the lack of flexibility. Of personal freedom. The constant struggle to make ends meet. Never knowing if you have a job a week from now. The feeling you get when someone tells you to never pass up an opportunity for adventure, because you know he or she never had two jobs to simply pay the rent and put food on the table. They have options. Back-ups. You don't. It's like watching the world through an impenetrable glass wall. You provide for that world to exist, but you'll never be able to take part in it. And it will never change. You come from insignificant people and your children will be insignificant. Shut out."

She finally looked at him. "Yes, I know you've had some tough times. But in comparison? You were just slumming for a while."

Pressing her lips tightly together, she shot out of the chair. Her cheeks burned, partly because of repressed anger she had carried for a long time, and partly because she was embarrassed that she had lost control like this.

"I need some air." Her voice was clipped and she twirled around and almost ran to the door. Once in the gallery she did run, and she didn't stop until she was outside the mountain, having taken the secret path instead of using the front gate. The frigid temperature felt like a slap as she pushed the heavy stone door open and tumbled out on the mountain shelf. Without a jacket and other warm garments she would not be able to stay out here for very long.

She slowly sank down on her knees as she gazed at the horizon. The view blurred and she closed her eyes. She did not understand why she said the things she had said or why she was in such emotional turmoil. Gritting her teeth she swore at herself, but it only made it worse, and then nausea viciously hit her too.

"Fuck this shit!" she growled and doubled over, throwing up her breakfast. Just as quickly as the urge to vomit had hit her, it was gone, and she sat back on her heels, snapping for air. Someone clearing their throat next to her had her recoiling, jumping to her right, scrambling unsuccessfully to get on her feet.

"Please no! I didn't mean to frighten you!"

She stared straight into Bilbo's concerned eyes.

"I just. . . " He waved a handkerchief vaguely at her. "Please." He nodded encouragingly.

Slowly she reached out and picked it out of his hand and started cleaning herself up. "Thank you," she mumbled.

Bilbo smiled warmly. "You're welcome." Gradually he grew serious again. "If you don't mind me asking, why are you unwell?"

A small chuckle escaped her. "If I knew I'd do something about it."

"I have been watching you. Not. . . in that way. But I couldn't help noticing. . . " He drew a deep breath. "Perhaps you should consider going to Dale. Just. . . to see if it makes a difference. A day or two."

"There have been suggestions along those lines from others," she admitted.

"So why don't you? You know, visit for a while?" he pressed on.

She shook her head. "I can't. Not now."

He gave her a long look. "You're looking after Thorin."

Closing her eyes, she ducked her head.

"Truth to be told, I already know. I know where he is too."

"Of course you do," she snorted and glanced at his waistcoat pocket, then raised her eyes to meet his. He couldn't quite hide his watchfulness and she shook her head. "I'd never touch it. Not even if my life depended on it."

Pursing his lips he peered down at her, shuffling his feet slightly. As a shiver racked her body he arched his eyebrows and lowered his chin, looking at her from under his bangs.

"You should come inside."

With a sigh she nodded, and carefully tried to push herself off the ground. She lost her balance, as she felt a bit woozy, probably because her blood pressure was low. Before she hit the ground though, Bilbo shot forward with surprising speed and caught her arm, keeping her from smacking into the stone, face first.

"Here, let me help you," he said firmly and steadied her as she slowly stood. With a small optimistic smile, he started to lead her inside. "You should rest for a while," he continued. "You look a bit pale."

"It's winter. I'm always pale when it's winter," she snorted.

Amusement had him chuckle in response. "Not quite the kind of paleness I was talking about, I'm afraid."

"I can't. I should go back." She swallowed and knots formed in her belly at the thought of facing Thorin.

"You won't be much use if you collapse," he insisted.

"I sort of ran out on him. I need to go back and talk to him," she said quietly, putting her hand on the wall to support herself as Bilbo closed the door behind them.

When he turned back to her he smiled. "I'm sure he'll understand. But you could send a message. He worries after all." He put an arm around her shoulders. "Come along. I'll help you and I'll convey a message to Thorin."

She allowed him to lead her down the narrow tunnel, shaking her head slightly. "You know, I wish we had become friends back in the Shire," she said and glanced at him.

He was silent for a few moments before replying. "I don't think I would have made a very good friend." Shooting her a look, his eyes sparkled slightly. "You seemed so. . . adventurous, with your bow and skis and everything."

"I'm not always that adventurous, you know. I read books, for example."

His head bobbed up and down. "I was aware of it. But you still seemed intimidating."

"I frightened you. That visit with Viola, Prim and Marge? I wasn't entirely nice. I'm sorry." She gazed pleadingly at him.

"Yes well, it's all in the past now. I know you now." A slight blush tinged his cheeks.

She smiled warmly at him and nodded. "Yeah, you do. Thank you."

Shaking his head, he kindly said, "Don't mention it. I'm glad to help. Now, let's get you to your quarters, shall we?"

o.o.o

Bilbo sat listlessly watching the activity, hidden away in a stealthy corner. After helping Mari to what turned out not to be her own room, but Kili's halls, which certainly didn't surprise him in the slightest, he had found Dori with a message for Thorin. After hesitating some he had sought out Kili to inform him about what had happened. He had felt like he was tattling, but he had been concerned, and so Kili had been apparently. Without ceremony he had dropped what he had been doing, hurrying off, leaving Bilbo standing there, once again without anything to do.

He often felt useless and to be honest he had hoped he would be on his way home by now, but the way things had developed he had been reluctant to leave. Once Thorin had overcome his not-unwarranted scepticism, they had truly become friends. As Bilbo had watched the changes in him, he had found it more and more difficult to leave after his mission was finished. He didn't want to say goodbye to someone who had come to be so important to him under circumstances such as these.

With a sigh he slid the ring on his finger and started his usual wandering. Why he had begun using the ring as he roamed the mountain he could not say, but there was an instinct telling him he should stay hidden. On quick and silent feet he found his way to the lower levels this evening, aiming for the resurrected alehouse. He'd never really been comfortable in such environments, but it pulled at him, like a lodestone, and he had to go.

Half the evening had gone by and Bilbo was beginning to tire of this place. It didn't help that the world was a quite unpleasant place while he wore the ring, and he longed for a nice meal and a warm fire in the world he was familiar with, not this bleak, dreary and distorted place.

Slowly and careful so as to not bump into anyone, he worked his way through the gathered crowd, when a familiar-looking hem caught his eye. There was a group of newly arrived Dwarves settling down with their ales and though the owner of said hem tried to hide it, Bilbo clearly saw it from his vantage point. Or rather the embroidery along said hem. He slipped closer to the Dwarves huddled along the wall with their heads leaning closely together, discussing something.

Bilbo almost had to crawl up behind one of them to be able to listen to their conversation, and when he finally was close enough to pick up on it, he stilled, holding his breath, as he recognised the voice speaking.

"No, we cannot shoot at the birds. We'll need them once this is over."

Bilbo closed his eyes and knew why he recognised the embroidery. It was Dain, the Iron Hills chieftain.

"But if they bring news. . . "

Bilbo could not identify the second Dwarf speaking, nor did the clothes give him away. From his position he couldn't see their faces either, and he didn't dare to move around. He opted to listen instead, as something told him it would be a good idea to listen to this conversation.

"Yes, they will bring news," Dain replied. "We already know people are coming here – the birds are not needed to tell anyone about that. The exact date of the first arrivals is hardly important. What is important is that we can use them eventually. Having killed so much as one of them will make that impossible."

"To be bullied by ravens. . . Who knew?" Another of the Dwarves piped up, also unknown to Bilbo.

"It's the only source of communication with the outside world we have that doesn't take months and months to convey messages." Dain tugged at his cloak, having discovered that some of his garments were showing.

"But we must make a move. The longer we wait, the greater is the risk of losing this opportunity," a third unknown voice said demandingly.

"Thorin is alive," Dain grunted.

"How do you know?"

"There is a young lad in the kitchen who is very observant. They are sending food somewhere. Always the same people are taking it; either one of the guards completely loyal to Dwalin, or Dori, Bombur, or Kili."

"Could be for anyone." The one who had commented on the ravens, the fourth member, raised his tankard and drank.

"Aye, it could. If it wasn't carried to the Royal Wing." Dain's voice was calm and collected, sure of himself.

"Isn't that whore staying there? Could be for her. Haven't seen her around in a while either." The fourth suggested.

"Meals for two? When Kili has been the one taking the food it's for three. The way cousin Balin acts is another give away. He can be sly, but he is an honest one deep down. And his brother couldn't act if his life depended on it. He's been like he's been bee-stung the past days. Everything points at Thorin being alive. It also tells me Miss Mari is involved, since Kili is one taking meals, clearly adding himself to their company when he does."

"Well then. Poison them."

"We can't poison Kili." The second one's voice revealed discomfort and he drew back slightly.

"Dead sooner rather than later, does it matter? Stop being so honourable." The fourth one sullenly drank from his tankard.

"I'm in favour of getting rid of as many as possible in one decisive blow. However, we cannot wait much longer, so if we can't find an opportunity when he's sharing their meal, so be it," the third one argued.

Dain sighed. "We have a problem with my cousin Dwalin though. He has been very thorough, weeding out a lot of people. I doubt we have any supporters left where it matters now."

"Got to give him that he's competent." Bilbo was uncertain which one of them it was who murmured now.

"And that is a huge problem! It's not just him! It's Balin too. I can tell he smells something. One slip and we're exposed!" The third one was still agitated and Bilbo drew back very carefully. He was beginning to gesture with his arms, and Bilbo did not want to be exposed by something as trivial as a smack by someone's hand.

"Don't underestimate any of them. Not Kili either," Dain pointed out.

"Heh. He's just floating around doing nothing, being nice to people," the fourth one said dismissively.

"And nice pays in the long run. Someone might forget who he actually is when he's being all nice and concerned, listening to people's problems, doing his best to solve them and gossiping a bit while he's at it. It never bothered you that he's just there all the time? Talking to people, remembering them, asking how they're doing and generally just being likeable?" The second one was jabbing his index finger in the air at the fourth one.

"Never liked him much," the fourth one shrugged and sipped his ale.

"You're simply being grouchy now."

"He looks like an Elf."

"Might be, but he's making an impression on people. And because of that girl he's no threat in the competition for the women folk about to descend on this place. Makes him even easier to like."

"Whore, you mean."

"Enough. Focus," Dain broke in, silencing them.

"We have to find a way to take out both heirs." The third seemed to have calmed down slightly, though he was still gripping the tankard a bit too tightly.

"The feast would be ideal."

"But what if Thorin comes back before then? That feast is six days away. No, we have to make a move before that. But it won't be easy to make it past Dwalin's ever watchful eye." The third one was back to being agitated.

"Could use poison there as well."

"Won't work. Fili eats last," Dain sighed.

"Sly bastards," the fourth one grumbled.

"Told you not to underestimate them." There was almost a tone of glee in the second one's voice.

"By the beards of my ancestors, what's he doing here?" Dain groused and the others peeked up from under their hoods. Bilbo scanned the vicinity and spotted Bifur stomping through the crowd.

"It's the only place to go for some ale in this mountain. Where else would he be?" The smirk in the second one's voice was clearly audible.

"Well, I can't be seen here now. We have to adjourn to some other time. I'll send you a message." Dain rose and with surprising stealth he slipped away, swallowed up in the mass of people.

Bilbo decided he had to leave. Now. Find the others and warn them. Silently he slipped away from his hiding place, taking advantage of the bustle as the remaining Dwarves shuffled closer together, closing the hole Dain had left. For a few minutes he looked for Dain, hoping to catch him, but it was as if the mountain had swallowed him. Admitting defeat, he made it out of the alehouse and ran, heading for the administration, taking off his ring the moment he was outside the establishment.

o.o.o

Balin leaned on the table, studying Fili from under his brow. With time Fili would make a good king, of that Balin had no doubt, but it couldn't be denied that he was young and inexperienced now. The good thing was that the lad had presence. He could play the game, pretending to have confidence when needed, though not in such a way that it seemed brusque. It helped that he was open about this not being a permanent solution which meant he could turn to the old adviser for details and in cases in which he was hesitant.

But Fili was weak. This was not the consolidated kind of ruling Erebor needed, and Balin felt the threats as if they had taken physical form. The sabotages were one thing. Those were distractions, leading the eye away from something much bigger. And Balin feared that the upcoming festivities, the combined belated Durin's Day and fore-Yule feast, would be the trigger for something, unless Thorin was restored. It could still happen, but it was less likely.

Dwalin had gone over the people under his command, being a lot more scrupulous than Gisla was. If there was anyone still within the ranks who could be considered trustworthy who was a mole, it was one who was very well hidden. You could never be one-hundred percent certain though.

Dain, so far, struck the right balance. Being critical, because anything else would have been suspicious, but not hostile, and on occasion lending Fili sudden backing against the worst protests from his own supporters. If there were to be a coup and it were to fail, Balin was certain that they would find nothing actually linking it to Dain himself.

Something was brewing though. Balin could tell there was a fuse burning somewhere, but he had no way of finding it and putting an end to whatever was about to explode. Kili and Nori's efforts had not resulted in anything of value so far either. In Kili's case it perhaps wasn't very odd, considering he was brother to Fili, and his role was more of being the friendly face of the rule. Nori, on the other hand, had hoped to lure someone into approaching her, suggesting a betrayal.

It had only been a few days so far, but Balin feared those who were involved in this plot were far too careful for such a plan to work, at least at this point. It was all very vexing. He sighed in frustration and lowered his head. Never had he wished he could turn into a house fly more than in this moment.

The door to the chamber opened and Balin glanced in its direction. When he spotted Bilbo coming in behind the guard posted outside, he smiled jovially at the Hobbit.

"Master Baggins," he greeted the sandy-haired little fellow.

Bilbo gave him a fleeting smile and then shot Fili a glance from under a furrowed brow.

"What brings you here then at this hour?" Balin continued, instantly wary as he watched Bilbo's apprehensive behaviour.

"I need to speak with you. . . about my departure," Bilbo said, glancing at the guard who was still standing next to him.

Balin nodded at the guard. "That'll be all, thank you," he said, dismissing the guard. "Come here laddie," he continued, waving Bilbo closer as the guard turned and left the chamber.

"You're not here to talk about leaving, are you?" Fili asked, as the guard had closed the door behind him. The young prince had quickly slipped closer, surprisingly silent, and he made Bilbo jump as he spoke.

Briefly putting his hand on his chest and flashing Fili a nervous smile, he shook his head. "No. No, I have something of great importance to tell you." He searched the room. "Where is Dwalin?"

"He's doing an inspection. We'll fill him in if it's necessary," Balin assured him.

Bilbo nodded and paused for a moment with his eyes on the stony floor. "I went to the alehouse this evening. You know the one they cleared out?"

Balin and Fili both nodded.

"I spotted some familiar faces there. And I overheard a conversation that horrified me to no end. Your lives are in danger." Bilbo's eyes locked onto Fili's. "Yours and Kili's. And Thorin's. Mari's too."

Fili threw a glance at Balin who nodded. "This is hardly news in itself. Tell us what you know."

Squaring his shoulders, Bilbo started talking.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Mari & Co return to the safety of Lothlorien, their pursuers find shelter of their own.

_Dimrill Dale, Misty Mountains, December 2940 TA_

With hooded eyes, Homraz studied Urzul's wrist. She had seen the exchange between the one they had dubbed the Fairy and Urzul, and she could easily guess how Urzul felt about that. The young woman attached to the Dwarves had surprised them all. Not that she had excelled in her archery, but that last shot, finding its target so perfectly when needed and clearly meant to only disable Urzul, not kill – it gave one pause.

The Fairy must know she should have ended Urzul right then and there, yet she didn't. Tactical mistake. But strategically? It irked Homraz to think they could be faced with someone who didn't just blindly hate them. Such enemies were always worse to face. Contrary to popular belief, Orcs did have a conscience, at least initially. It could be debated, though, whether the soldiers it still had after a few years of service.

Homraz still had hers, though it was a bit worse for the wear, but there were times when she wished she had done away with it entirely. She could not afford to be merciful and her conscience made life difficult sometimes. It was so much easier when you could simply hack down the enemy, knowing there was no mercy to be had if you didn't.

Why the Fairy had spared Urzul was puzzling. There was so much bad blood between the Durin Dwarves and Azog's family, and any sane person would get rid of Urzul when they had such an excellent opportunity, as had presented itself to the Fairy. She had not hesitated to kill any of the others and Homraz had herself narrowly escaped one of her arrows, before the blond heir had cut her badly. According to Urzul, the Fairy seemed to have recognised her too, though it seemed far-fetched. How would she know who Urzul was?

"It was a mistake," Urzul said quietly, cutting into Homraz musings.

"True enough. And how did you know what I was thinking anyway?" Homraz narrowed her eyes.

Urzul suddenly grinned and peered up at Homraz who resisted drawing a deeper breath at the sight. There were moments when Urzul reminded them all so much of her father, though she had inherited plenty from her mother too. But that lopsided grin and square chin, with a glint in the eerie blue eyes – yes, that was all her father.

Kyllikki, mostly only called Kylli, who was Urzul's mother, had been Azog's last companion before he died. Having come back from an extensive expedition, he'd been followed by a woman, from the Icebay of Forochel far to the north – a Lossoth. What he saw in her was anyone's guess, since she was of the Men. Pale, short, thin, all large brown eyes and even teeth – and the hair! More than a few slanted looks had been sent her way at the beginning, but with time most had come to grudgingly respect her, in particular since it was evident she cared for him, as he cared for her. And weak she was not.

In quick succession she had given Azog several children – his only children, though he'd had several companions before her. Among his offspring, Urzul had been the youngest. She had inherited her plentiful dark straight hair, rounded ears and less stocky build from her mother. In contrast with her brother Bolg, who was a spitting image of his Orc grandmother, Urzul had something. . . Man-like about her features. Softer brow, larger eyes, fuller lips, less grim teeth. Yet, she was hardly weak-looking.

Non-Orcs who didn't know and hadn't seen Kylli, would never guess Urzul and Bolg had a Lossoth mother. To the Orcs it was plainly obvious, though, that Urzul was a half-breed. Snowflake, they derogatorily called her behind her back, alluding to the relatively delicate features she had and her mother's northern heritage. Didn't stop them from pursuing her though. Homraz smirked at the thought.

"I know you well, my friend," Urzul said lightly. "And I saw how you looked at this." She held up her left hand briefly and glared at it.

Shel plopped down next to Homraz and affectionately nudged her shoulder with her own uninjured one, shooting her a close lipped smile.

"Love at first sight, wouldn't you say?" Shel snickered and looked slyly at Urzul, who snorted.

"Definitely a more successful shot at catching interest than most other attempts I've seen," Homraz deadpanned.

"Oh you're so witty," Urzul groaned.

"Yes I am," Homraz replied smugly.

Shel leaned her head against Homraz's and absently she ran her hand up Shel's back and buried her fingers in the thick auburn hair at the base of Shel's skull. "But the Fairy could become a problem," she mused as she slowly carded her fingers through Shel's hair.

"She already is a problem," Urzul sighed and poked at the fire, looking morose.

"Damn woman to slip through our fingers like that. Three arrows she evaded. Three! And two just out of sheer luck."

"At some point luck runs out," Shel said and yawned, snuggling slightly closer to Homraz.

Urzul sat staring at the flames for a long while, deep in thought, and neither Homraz nor Shel did anything to break the silence. It was worth it to let Urzul turn a problem over thoroughly and despite the weather it was reasonably pleasant sitting there, just the three of them. It was a pity they needed more people to continue, or Homraz would have gladly kept it like this. They'd have a brief respite at least.

"You in pain?" Homraz murmured and turned her head so her forehead leaned against Shel's temple.

The corners of Shel's mouth curved upwards slightly. "Nah. I'm good." Shel straightened and pulled back slightly, looking down at Homraz's midsection, then back up again. As their eyes met, Shel nodded and pulled away, beginning to rummage around in her pack. When she came back she dissolved a powdery substance in a mug with some hot water being kept hot next to the fire and handed it to Homraz, who accepted it. As she took a sip she was again grateful they were the only ones sharing this camp. There was no need to keep up unnecessary appearances. She was in pain and it would be nice to be able to sleep properly.

"We're staying here a day or so more," Urzul stated. "You both need to rest and heal, and I'm in no hurry to meet and greet."

Homraz inclined her head, relaxing slightly. If only the Goblins steered clear, which they most likely would, it could be a pretty decent few days ahead. Cold, but good.

"We should perhaps seek out the Dunlendings," Urzul mused and gazed into the darkness.

Shel returned to her spot next to Homraz. "You know, we could stay here and use the straying Dunlendings for some scouting, instead of asking for reinforcements to do that work. Would save us a lot of miles, not to mention we'd not have to deal with the arses back home," she suggested.

Urzul broke out in a large grin, which both Homraz and Shel returned.

"And we'd not risk missing the Dwarves' departure. They'd have to come down and cross over by the North Undeep into the Brown Lands. An easy catch," Homraz pointed out and chuckled happily. "This winter is suddenly looking up."

She downed the rest of the contents of the mug, throwing Urzul a glance over the rim. Urzul's grin had dimmed and her eyes were back on the fire. Clumsily Homraz leaned forward, slipping down on one knee to not give herself too much discomfort or put unnecessary pressure on her stitched up wound. Her hand found Urzul's uninjured arm and squeezed it. Urzul turned her head and met Homraz's gaze.

"Holmroyd would be the ideal place to settle. It would be good to have a decent base during winter," Homraz said. "They are fewer in number, but Widuc is-" She didn't finish the sentence.

"A friendly face?" Urzul's voice had a sharp undertone as she cut Homraz off.

Homraz sighed and then sneered. "You need to sort out whatever it is between you two, because yes, he  _is_  a friendly face. We need that right now."

Urzul put her hand over Homraz and nodded reluctantly. "We'll leave the day after tomorrow, if you're up to it."

o.o.o

_Holmroyd, South Misty Mountains, December 2940 TA_

The sun was hanging just above the treetops as Urzul, Homraz and Shel slowly walked into the semi-permanent settlement. Shouts alerted everyone of their presence and behind them a couple of archers stepped out from their hiding places. Urzul stopped dead in her tracks as a tall male ducked out of the largest dwelling, and her companions followed her lead. For a while they stood staring at each other as several men and women slowly came outside and moved closer to take a look at the visitors.

"Greetings Widuc," Urzul finally said, raising her chin slightly.

With a slight nod he leisurely walked up to them, shadowed by a couple of the other inhabitants who didn't bother to hide their hostile attitude, nor their swords. Urzul bit back a sneer. They wouldn't stand a chance if she really were here to pick a fight. Luckily for them, she wasn't.

Widuc's eyes didn't stray from her as he advanced, and she stared unflinchingly back at him. Just out of sword's reach he came to a halt, but only for a few seconds. Resolutely he stepped well within her comfort zone. She didn't even blink. The corners of his eyes creased slightly in a not-smile which never failed to both amuse and annoy her.

"They are wounded," Urzul said matter-of-factly. As she had expected, Widuc didn't allow his attention to stray, which, considering, was prudent. In this sense he didn't treat her differently than he would treat any other Orc.

"I'm not keen on enduring any humiliation because of the problems we've run into, and we have a task to complete," she continued to explain, honest, bordering on brutal. Widuc would expect no less and suspect foul play if she weren't.

He raised an eyebrow. "I don't want any Gundabad inquisition on my doorstep."

You don't want my brother here, Urzul translated in her mind. There was no friendliness whatsoever between Widuc and Bolg. Quite the opposite. The moment the fragile alliance between Orcs and Dunlendings fell apart, Bolg would rip this settlement apart first of all – with pleasure. "There was a skirmish and I lost people. I'm in command and it's my decision how to handle the situation. There's nothing improper going on, nor am I breaking any orders." Urzul spoke calmly and assertively.

"But seeking my aid is involving an outside force." Widuc kept his voice even though there was a challenge in everything he said.

"We are allies. I have every right to make use of that."

"Hmmm, yes, allies." The last word he stressed without a hint of irony, though it didn't escape anyone that it wasn't out of reverence he emphasised it. Urzul's lips parted ever so slightly and her eyes sharpened. She was aware of the potential price he could pay for keeping his door open to her, but at the same time he had been the one to stipulate that all communication should be through her in the past. He had put himself in the position he was all on his own.

"Allies," she repeated, challengingly. The wordless communication between them went on as several moments slipped by.

"Allies." A small smile curved at his lips now. "Everyone will suspect you did this to avoid running the gauntlet in the north." The other Dunlendings might not notice, but there was a hint of sympathy in his words, and she soaked it up even if she resented herself for allowing herself to.

She shrugged. "Matters little if I come out of this successful. And I am pressed for time. That is no lie."

Widuc nodded and his voice was carefully bland as he spoke. "Bolg would never be questioned."

She inclined her head in agreement. That was also true.

"He's nowhere near, I hope?" Widuc tilted his head and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Define 'near'." Anything closer than either six feet down in the ground or in Gundabad would be considered "near" by Widuc, and she couldn't help smirking as she asked.

"As in 'in the vicinity'?" he shot back.

"He's in Dol Guldur. He was called by the Master."

Widuc's eyebrows shot up. "Sufficiently busy then, I suppose?"

Urzul couldn't hold back a smirk. "I would say so, yes."

He nodded, looking thoughtful.

"You know I would not come here with him on my heel," she said quietly. "He's an arse, I know that. He has his moments, my  _dear_  brother, but his social skills are. . . lacking. Da was sophisticated in comparison."

"Clearly, since he made enough of an impression on your mother to convince her to come with him south. It may be cold up there in the north, but they are under no one's heel. It's not a bad life."

A genuine smile curved her lips. "That he did." Next to her Homraz shifted from one foot to the other and her smile fell away. "Dwarf sword to the midsection, though fortunately her intestines were unharmed. I have stitched her up, but she needs rest," she explained, nodding at Homraz.

Finally he turned his eyes to the other two women and nodded at them as greeting. "Get them inside and fetch the healer," he ordered and glanced briefly at the man to his left. Homraz and Shel unhurriedly followed him as he turned and walked off. Widuc aimed his attention back to Urzul. "Dwarf sword, eh? I'd expect Elves, or possibly those horse lovers, but Dwarves?"

"There are Dwarves around down here," she reminded him.

"True, but you usually don't have dealings with them. Relatively few. Scattered. Lost, as they are." His eyes narrowed. "These are particular ones, aren't they?"

Her nostrils flared slightly.

"And they got the better of you. Interesting." He nodded and pursed his lips. "Must have stung. Especially considering they harmed Homraz and Shel."

Urzul ripped up her left bandaged hand and held it in front of his eyes, glowering at him. He studied the relatively small injury for a moment, before his eyes slid up to meet hers. He knew about the feud between her family and the Durin Dwarves, and she was certain he suspected who these particular Dwarves had been.

"I'm impressed," he said evenly. "You want me to look at that?"

She shook her head. "Nothing serious. Healing fine."

With a shrug he half-turned towards the large structure he had exited. "Come along. I know you're dying for my cooking," he smirked.

"Hardly," she smirked back, but set her feet in motion, steering them towards the domicile.

. . .

Shel watched with satisfaction how a healer looked Homraz over, being gentle while ignoring Homraz's sour attitude. Warrior attitude. It had taken Homraz a long time to let down that guard around Shel. It was like she'd had a special sense for whenever Shel was in the vicinity, and even after they'd come to an agreement, Homraz kept up that stoicism.

Not that Shel didn't understand. This was their life. Their only life. The only thing they could do with any decency. Though injury wasn't bad in itself, being rendered disabled was, so they patched themselves up, tucked away any indications of weakness and pushed on.

There would be a day when they no longer could do that, and that was not a day to look forward to, because for them, the warriors, there was nothing. No safety net. No place. No minor tasks that still could make them useful. Begging and slowly withering away was the only future. On the other hand, it was no better as a civilian. Chained to relentless work, day in and day out, never seeing anything but the village.

To this day Shel still thought she had made the better decision when she chose a soldier's life, but on occasion she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to be free for real. If she could choose what she wanted to do, travel outside their own territories. . . Go all the way to the sea in the west. Shel quickly dropped her eyes to the bowl in her hand to hide her thoughts.

"Chin up," Urzul said, startling her. Smoothly the tall woman sunk into a cross-legged position next to Shel. "It's not that bad."

Shel remembered she had a spoon in her hand and scooped up some of the casserole to shove it in her mouth.

"There are times when I wonder if we're fighting for the right things in life," Urzul mused with a low voice. "I look around, and I become angry. What life do we have? We can't go anywhere else. We're not welcome anywhere else. We'd be killed on the spot if we tried. There's so much that is wrong with our own realm, but it's not exactly marvellous elsewhere either. Most we ever come across only survive, just like we do. What kind of a world is that? An unjust one."

Shel didn't dare to glance at her friend and commander. "What's with you and Widuc?" she asked, changing subject. "I thought you were friends."

Urzul snorted. "We're not enemies."

"So what's wrong?" Shel pressed.

"Everything? They don't really want to be allies with us. Widuc is known for barring all Orcs – but me. And why is that? Because our warriors are acting like brutes and can't tell the difference between those on our side and those who aren't. I can understand it," Urzul did a vague snaking movement with her head as she pulled down the corners of her mouth, "sort of. This isn't likely to last. And Men think themselves better."

Shel deliberately chewed slowly on her food, keeping her eyes on the bits of deer and root vegetables in the thick gravy.

"He believes we are safer. Being women, you know. But what actually let us into this settlement from the beginning wasn't that, but my mother." There was a streak of bitterness in Urzul's voice.

"Doesn't let Bolg in," slipped out of Shel's mouth.

Urzul smirked and shook her head. "Bolg has been working hard on proving himself in every way since before I was even born. He's always going to be better – or worse, depending on how you look at it – than those with pure blood. He has to be. So no, he'll never be welcome here."

"You could be like him," Shel suggested. Not that she wanted Urzul to be, but the option was always there. Her commander could certainly be brutal enough, but she'd not indulge in excesses.

Urzul shook her head. "No. I'm not even going to try to compete when I lack the most essential ingredient to have a shadow of a hope for recognition of that kind. Born in the wrong body." She sighed. "People think my ways are because mam was Lossoth. They think Bolg is the way he is because of da and Uncle."

Urzul glanced at the bowl in Shel's hands. On impulse Shel raised the spoon, aiming it at Urzul. Their eyes met and Shel raised her brow in encouragement.

"I know you haven't eaten yet," Shel murmured. "It's good."

Urzul leaned forward and opened her mouth and with a small smile Shel fed her the spoonful of casserole. Quickly Urzul chewed and swallowed it down.

"Decent." She waved off more from Shel's bowl. "I'll get my own." With that she rose and picked up her own portion, then came back to Shel's side.

"I was naïve. Never questioned why Widuc would speak to me and no one else. We got on, and I thought it was because we were allies and because he was open-minded enough to take me seriously. Made me think better of these Men."

As Urzul spoke, Shel felt a slowly sinking feeling in her gut. She never had any illusions of why the Dunlendings usually didn't turn away the units she'd been part of, while they were quite hostile towards Orcs in general, despite the common interest and alliance. Urzul wasn't prone to fallacy – usually. This had to be personal.

"These are better than most," Shel said lamely. Because it was true. Yes, they were usually accepted into the camps, but Widuc's was one of the few where there wasn't open hostility aimed at them. Not everyone liked their presence, but here she had even had brief encounters with children. Unheard of elsewhere.

Urzul slowly continued to eat as if she hadn't heard, but as to prove Shel's point, one of the wide-eyed girls in the shadows slowly got on her feet and slipped over to the fire where they were sitting. She had to be about twelve or thirteen, positively scrawny in Shel's eyes, nearly drowning in the thick belted tunic and long wide skirt.

"Tova," the girl said quietly, holding her head high.

Shel glanced at Urzul, who studiously ignored the girl.

"Shel." With a nod aimed at her friend next to her, she added, "Don't mind the sour attitude. That's Urzul." She nodded across the fire. "Homraz over there."

Tova shot Urzul furtive looks. "Are you in pain?" she asked, zooming in on Shel's shoulder, studying it closely.

"Of course. Anyone who doesn't admit that being wounded hurts is a liar," Shel said gruffly. "And you would do well to remember that it does." She studied the girl who kept trying to not look at Urzul.

"I know it does," Tova said and her eyes dipped briefly. "I'm apprenticing. Healing. Have seen plenty."

Shel's eyebrows shot up. "You're, what? Twelve? At the most? Apprenticing already? Are things that bad among you?"

Tova raised her chin slightly and her eyes flashed. "I'm sixteen. And I've been Healer Sifled's charge."

"You cannot possibly be sixteen!" Shel blurted.

The girl blushed and Shel dove over next to her to take a closer look. Tova shied sideways, looking more affronted than afraid.

"You'll not see anything unless I want you to," Tova hissed with a tense expression on her face.

Shel quickly scanned the surroundings, noting the presence of several men, though no one seemed to pay them any attention. "Fair enough." She hesitated and gave the girl a long look. "But you do look quite young."

Tova's blush deepened. "I do it on purpose. Has its advantages."

Suppressing a sigh, Shel looked over at Urzul, who finally had her eyes aimed at the girl.

"What do you want?" Urzul asked brusquely.

The girl inched back, resuming her place and taking a deep breath. "I'm supposed to become a healer. Don't get to meet many other than the people around here though." Tova glanced at Shel's shoulder. "When we have wounded foreigners I'm usually tucked away too." She turned her eyes back to Urzul. "You're staying, I hear."

"And?" Urzul chewed slowly as she looked down her nose at the girl.

The girl hesitated. "I'm not bad with weapons, but I could get better. And. . . " Her eyes dipped. "I'm not allowed outside the village anymore."

"With good reason," Urzul groused.

"Not even with escort."

"You're sixteen," Urzul said shortly. "You're not safe from your own kind either."

Tova looked quite unhappy now and Shel sighed, meeting Urzul's eyes.

"As I said. This world? Unjust." Urzul turned her attention back to the bowl.

"I'm thinking that if I got better at fighting, and had company that could be trusted. . . perhaps I could be allowed outside at least. . . well, a few hours."

The two women stared at Tova. "We're Orcs," Shel said incredulously.

The girl looked back at them with a questioning look on her face. "Yes?"

Shel and Urzul traded looks. "Not many would consider us trustworthy," Shel said and watched Urzul turn her head away with a scowl on her face.

"You've got a reputation here as being reliable. Good warriors." Tova paused. "Women."

Shel coughed to conceal her amusement and sent another glance at Urzul who closed her eyes and shook her head.

"I doubt they would be that pleased if they knew about mine and Homraz preferences," Shel said under her breath in the local Gundabad dialect. "Not interested," she added pointedly.

"I know you're not. She's not your type," Urzul replied evenly. "But still. Amusing, isn't it?"

Shel pursed her lips in a somewhat vain attempt to keep her mirth contained.

"I'll take a look at what you can do tomorrow. Then we talk," Urzul said in Common, directing her gaze at Tova.

A triumphant grin quickly spread over the girl's face. "Thank you," she murmured, and clamped down on herself, struggling to hide her satisfaction. With a quick nod she ducked away, leaving Shel and Urzul again exchanging long looks.

"We're trustworthy," Shel said pointedly.

Urzul growled. "I feel like murdering Widuc. He's been  _talking_."

"It's not bad being seen as trustworthy. Nice for a change."

"The reason why we're considered such is not. . . a good one."

"And what is that reason? Other than us being who we are and always have been here?" Shel pressed on. Homraz's heavy and well known footfalls had Shel looking up with a small smile, one which Homraz returned.

"It's too far down to the ground," Homraz groused as she slowly began sinking down next to Shel. Despite her injury, Shel got on her knees with surprising speed and aided Homraz. "No infection, at least." With a sigh she relaxed on the furry skin and accepted a bowl of the same casserole Urzul and Shel was eating, handed to her by Tova, shooting Homraz a winning smile before she was gone again.

"Pretty little thing," Homraz said absently and picked up the spoon.

"Oh?" Shel said innocently.

Homraz waved the spoon in the air. "All that curly hair, stubby nose and large eyes? She'll be turning heads around here soon."

Shel and Urzul snickered in unison.

"What?" Homraz looked at the other two with confusion.

"I'd say she already is," Urzul said blandly. "She's sixteen."

Homraz turned to search for the girl with her eyes but couldn't see her. "No. She couldn't be."

"She's dressing down. Admitted she does. Sixteen is still very young though." Urzul picked up her spoon again.

Homraz shrugged. "True." Her attention was back on the bowl's content, and she was hungrily digging in.

Urzul finished off her meal and smoothly stood, leaving without a word. Shel watched her depart. She knew evasion when she saw it, and at the moment, Urzul was taking advantage of the situation to escape a discussion she didn't want to have. Shel sighed and smiled at Homraz who had her nose in her bowl, eagerly finishing off her meal.

Her smile faded as she thought about how fortunate they had been this time around. It had been too bloody close for comfort, to be honest. They had always lacked a healer among them, something Urzul often complained openly about. To no avail, of course, simply because the higher ups were conservative stiffs.

The Dunlendings had a different attitude though. Shel raised her eyes and watched the healer whose charge Tova was. The girl was young, but not a child. Having grown up with the settlement's healer meant she'd be better than any normal healer apprentice the same age. If she was decent with weapons, perhaps. . . Shel paused.

Tova was quite clearly eager to get out though, and if they were to use the village as their base for the winter anyway, they could simply borrow the girl, until they had finished what they had come for. It could mean the difference between life and death to have a healer along, even if she were officially still only an apprentice.

"You're plotting," Homraz said, watching Shel affectionately.

Shel snorted, trying to shrug it off. "Just thinking a bit."

"I know that look. You're up to something."

With a non-committal noise Shel raised her bowl to her lips and downed the very last of the casserole. "May not come to anything. Wait and see," she said once she had swallowed.

o.o.o

"You'd do what?" Widuc stared at Urzul who was sitting on the bench next to him, by the large central fireplace in the longhouse he called his home during winter.

"Tova is better than most boys the same age, both with bow and sword," Urzul replied calmly and raised her brow at the surprised look on the Man's face. "You didn't know? Well, she is."

"She's supposed to become a healer." He looked up as one of the males slowly passed them by on the other side of the fireplace. No one was openly watching them, but people definitely were straining to catch their conversation.

She canted her head and pursed her lips for a moment. "One does not preclude the other. I know you don't trust your own kind, which, if I may say so, isn't very flattering. You may need to work on that. But rumour has it this isn't true for us."

"You'd willingly take her along?" He was unable to hide his disbelief, gazing searchingly at her.

"She'd not be more trouble than what we usually have along with us, and she has something none of my warriors ever has."

Widuc nodded. "She's really ready to work on her own. Healer Sifled has trained her well."

"All her life, I suspect."

Widuc hesitated for a moment. "Aye. Children are there. Catching everything, from the moment they wake up until they fall asleep."

"She calls herself a charge."

He hesitated again. "Healer Sifled is not her mother, no. I don't know anything about the girl and neither does Sifled. She hasn't told us much, but that's hardly surprising. Orphaned children around here often have a ghastly stories to tell. You'd think it would be enough for those straw-heads to drive us off our lands, but no. They continue to murder us."

"I heard about the slaying. Why did you even try to approach the Rohirrim? You lost Freca and you made my superiors suspicious."

"I was not in favour of seeking peace with them. They have never shown any sign of being interested in such a thing unless their backs are against the wall, and in the end Gondor always saves them and they can continue to slaughter us." He paused. "They do horrible things and I can only imagine what Tova saw before she was found."

Urzul was silent, waiting for more.

"I'm not allowing you to take her with you north. I know you and I trust you, but you'll not be able to protect her. Frankly? You're hardly in a position to speak derisively about my people." He shook his head and squared his shoulders.

"I know better than you our own situation and we'd not take her anywhere. It's just for the patrols around here as long as we're staying. Once we've carried out our order we leave. Without her."

Widuc gave her a long look and Urzul sighed. "As much as I wish I could – no. She's not coming with us, even if she actually would like to. Which I doubt."

"Don't be so certain. I know that girl. She has been like a caged bird, looking to escape. I know she sought you out yesterday, and I wasn't surprised."

"She can't come. And that's the end of that discussion," Urzul said dismissively.

"I thought I'd have to fight you over this," he admitted and peered questioningly at her.

Urzul narrowed her eyes, jutted her chin out and leaned closer. "Don't you dare bring up my mam."

Calmly he gazed back at her. "I wasn't thinking about her. I was thinking about what I know you so desperately need. There's a reason why you're here, in the shape you're in."

She nodded stiffly.

Widuc sighed and shook his head. "Between you and me? Tova would probably be better off elsewhere. She is a poor fit among us. Far too headstrong and brash. We need to be strong to survive, but she's. . . too much like a boy. It's not a bad thing considering she's a healer and she needs to be commanding, but she's so young. People are finding it difficult to handle."

Urzul's eyebrows climbed up her forehead questioningly.

"Well, men find it difficult to handle," he admitted. "The lads." He sighed again.

"I doubt it would have made any difference if she'd been meek. You would simply not know the extent of it if she were. But I have nothing to offer her either since she can't come with me up north."

"Did you ever consider leaving that warrior life behind?" he asked.

She stared incredulously at him. "And do what, exactly?"

He shrugged. "Marry? Travel? Learn a craft?"

Urzul's laughter was rusty but genuine. "You're too precious. Where would I travel without risking my life? Learn a craft? Certainly, but I could only work within our own system. I'd rather be chained up than do that." Her amusement dissipated. "Marry? Who would ever look at me and see anything but sport and a trophy?"

They stared at each other for a long moment.

"I'll take her with me and start tracking the surroundings, starting tomorrow." Urzul rose to her feet. "And you can tell the 'lads' that they can expect to get what they deserve if they can't act decently around women. Any women. I'll make sure of it." Her eyes were like shards of bluish ice as they swept over the open hall. As she strode towards the entrance, people drew back, quickly looking elsewhere so as not to catch her attention.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s all about the future.

_Caras Galadhon, Lothlorien, January 2941 TA_

Slowly Mari descended down the stone steps with her eyes nailed to the large basin. So there it was, the thing that could possibly show what was going on. And of course, the outcome of any failures on her part. Stepping closer she frowned at it.

"I know you're going to show me frightening things if I look into you," she groused as she stopped before it. "Don't really need to confirm what I already suspect." Minutes passed by as she glared at the immovable object and nothing stirred. "Why am I even here?" she asked out loud.

" _You know why you are here."_  Mari closed her eyes and ducked her head. The Lady Galadriel. Of course.

"You are quite right in being wary," the Lady continued out loud. "This is not a thing to consider lightly." She stood on the other side of the mirror, watching Mari with a blank face, yet Mari could sense there was a lot going on under the surface.

Mari sighed and touched the basin's edge with her fingers, studying the carved stone. As she glanced up at Galadriel she caught the small smile on the Elven lady's lips. "But it's hard to stay away, isn't it? Or is it just because of who I am? Always so curious?"

Galadriel inclined her head. "Yes, you have an inquisitive mind, but so do I. With time you learn to control it better, though one must be careful not to kill it."

Mari snorted. "Well, I won't live 8,000 years, so I might never learn to rein it in."

"It's not a flaw to be curious." Galadriel's voice was gentle and encouraging, which relaxed Mari somewhat. Slowly she put both her hands on the edge of the basin, looking at the water's surface.

"I'm so drawn to it, though I don't understand why," she admitted quietly. "Unlike many, I have no doubt what will happen if I don't succeed. I really don't need to see it." She looked pleadingly up at Galadriel.

Slowly Galadriel moved, as if it helped her stay guarded. Every movement was careful and precise and it didn't look at all like she was pacing, just that she was flowing with her thoughts somehow.

"Two individuals can look into the mirror and see very different things, even if it depicts the same future. It's what you are and what you bring that will guide it." The Lady turned towards Mari. "The choice whether to find out or not is of course entirely yours." She inclined her head.

Mari drew a deep breath and fixed her eyes on the water. Briefly she could hear whispers and she closed her eyes.

"You hear it." Galadriel's voice seemed to float in the air.

Jerkingly Mari nodded, and for a long while she tried to will herself to step away from all of this, but oh, she so desired to know. What had changed? Was she causing more damage with her interference? Was there anything positive? She had to admit that she probably would be more frightened if the mirror showed her good things. What if they were not to happen and she were to be to blame for it?

"Show me," Mari impulsively said and opened her eyes.

Galadriel picked up the pitcher placed on a shelf in the rock by the water trickling over its surface, sank it into the small pool, and stepped up to the basin, emptying the pitcher. Mari leaned over the edge to peer down at the surface. The water reflected her face back at her for a beat before it morphed into an image of an unknown child. It looked like it was four or five, though sturdier built than any children she had known. Unruly brown hair was escaping braids meant to hold the tresses out of the child's face. It was only wearing a tunic, simple, yet with an embroidery that seemed like a Durin one, and from where she stood she could not tell whether it was a boy or a girl. Into the image stepped Thorin, leaning down and picking up the child. He spoke to the child and pointed in her direction. Quickly it whipped its head around with a wide grin, reaching its arms towards her. Thorin laughed and turned to look her way too, setting himself in motion, carrying the child towards her.

Mari gripped the basin so hard her knuckles were white. Who was this child? There were no other clues than that it must be related to Thorin. Considering the embroidery it could be either Fili's or Kili's son or daughter, though her mind shied away from the idea that Kili could be the father.

The image morphed into Fili and Gisla, sitting as they so often did in private quarters, sharing a large armchair, but there was a third person, a child, slipping down on the floor, being aided by Gisla. Once on the floor it hurried over to the fire where Kili was sitting in deep concentration, fiddling with something. Mari nearly giggled as she realised he was peeling chestnuts. Seated next to him was the child she had seen earlier, older now, and closer to the fire was again Thorin, obviously in charge of roasting the chestnuts properly.

New image. Towards her Fili and Kili came strolling and they were both dressed smartly, looking quite official somehow. She realised they were walking above the gates of Erebor, and from time to time during the conversation they looked over the crenelations towards the valley and Dale in the distance. There was no sign of any desolation and the mountainous surroundings had been tamed. Terraces had been built on the less steep parts and the valley looked like a combination of Lombardy and Peruvian Cuzco. It seemed Erebor and Dale were doing better than they ever had done.

A sturdy but intricately carved door materialised, slowly opening, allowing her to peek inside. She was let inside and right in front of her Kili was sprawled in a chair by a dying fire, partly covered by a blanket, fast asleep. A pillow he at one point had leaned his head on had slipped to the floor. Her attention turned to the rather large bed to her left, in total disarray. It was occupied by several children of different ages, also asleep, and in their sleep they did their best to conquer every inch of the mattress, which she guessed was the reason for Kili sleeping in the chair.

Slipping nearer she looked more closely at the children and counted to five. The oldest, a boy with dark brown hair, seemed to be around ten or eleven, while the youngest was only a small toddler, perhaps two at the most. Exactly who they were she could not tell, but it wasn't hard to glean that they were most likely related to Kili. She pulled a steadying breath. They could not all be Fili's could they? Maybe Thorin would marry too? Unthinkable right now, but you never knew. But if this was where Kili commonly slept. . . She shut down that thought.

The image morphed again, showing the mountainous landscape around Erebor and Dale again, through which four people were riding. In the background were the enormous gates of Erebor and in the foreground the riders were about to enter the town through the gates in the wall surrounding it.

Startled, she realised that among the riders was herself, the first real indication that she had a place in this future. Next to her was Dis, with more white in her hair than Mari remembered. Briefly she wondered how many years into the future this could be. Ten? Twenty? Her future self was too far away to give any indications. Just behind a young Dwarf she didn't know or recognised rode, but there was something familiar about him that she couldn't quite pinpoint.

The fourth rider was partly obscured as the company passed through the gates, but she could conclude that it must be someone tall, because this person was not riding on a pony, but on a larger, full-sized horse. A hint of unusually long, vividly red hair made her eyebrows shoot up her forehead. Could it be Tauriel? What would she be doing in their company and in Dale?

This was not what she had expected from the mirror, and a clump formed in her throat. This looked so. . . normal. It indicated that there was a future, and a good one at that. This was exactly what she had feared, and it raised a lot more questions than it answered.

Once more the image morphed, but this time the feeling was more bleak. In a grey pre-dawn light a caravan of riders were leaving Dale and Erebor behind; a valley clearly marked by the dragon. The desolation stretched around them. Her eyes found Kili, grey in his face, staring head with dead eyes. His back was straight, yet he looked broken somehow. Next was Gisla, equally stony faced, and to Mari's dismay she spotted Fili's swords at her sides. Her eyes darted back to Kili and she spotted her bow and sword, strapped to the side of his pack.

No, she did not need to see that. However, she found that she couldn't turn her eyes away, and as the images showed a dark cavern she knew she was looking at a tomb, and she also knew who rested beneath the stone – Thorin and Fili. The walls of Minas Tirith rose before her eyes and at one of the tiers she spotted Dis solemnly gazing to the east, white-haired like Balin. Next to her, Gisla stepped up, her eyes too staring east. Somehow Mari knew they were the only ones left, though the image gave no clue to what had happened to Kili.

Finally she could tear away from the mirror and she stumbled slightly as she withdrew from it. Galadriel watched her calmly as she went over the images. Straightening, she suddenly swirled around, facing the Elf, staring at her with wide eyes.

"I don't know what you have seen of the future, but I know. . . " Mari went silent and swallowed. "I came to ask you something." She paused, grasping for the right words. All she could think of was "help me put things right". Not particularly eloquent or persuasive.

Galadriel studied her and Mari dropped her gaze with hot cheeks. She must know, she thought.

"Yes, I know what you came to ask for," Galadriel confirmed quietly. "I have spent many hours contemplating this, trying to penetrate the shadows. I have sought the counsel of Mithrandir too."

"Saruman?" Mari asked carefully, doing her best to keep her mind empty and her temper cool. It was probably futile, and it would most likely have been better to keep her mouth shut, but she couldn't resist.

Galadriel eyed her curiously. "You seek to hide your thoughts from me." The Lady nodded and smiled at her, and Mari felt the reassurance. "I will not pry, since you so clearly don't wish me to." She paused briefly. "The head of the Istari is not needed here."

Mari concentrated on her breathing, determined to keep herself from giving anything away.

The smile on Galadriel's face grew. "Fortunately, this is a local matter, which we, together with the Woodland Realm in the north, can deal with on our own."

Mari nearly dropped her jaw. A small matter? No, Galadriel had to be joking. But then again, Elves weren't famous for their sense of humour.

" _Not all is what it seems."_  It was impossible to miss the amusement in Galadriel's eyes now.

Clearly not, shot through Mari's mind as she stared at the tall Elf.  _Subterfuge?_  As Galadriel cocked her head to the side, Mari reluctantly smiled too. It was baffling though. For months she had been trying to come up with a strategy to convince the Elves to act, sharpening her arguments, only to find she did not need them. It seemed like a trap somehow.

"We have many reasons to act. However, for now, the less we speak of it, the better it is," Galadriel said, her smile fading.

Mari nodded. There was nothing else she could do now, other than to move on to the next step in the plan. The Iron Hills. She frowned as she thought about it.

"May I suggest something?" Galadriel asked gently. Startled, Mari nodded.

"Seek out the Woodland captain. You will pass their borders on your journey towards the Iron Hills. I sense it would be wise to do so." Galadriel moved to put the pitcher back in its place.

Mari smiled wanly. "I wouldn't mind, but the others might feel. . . they need to push on. They had hoped we'd be much farther by now."

"Thorin Oakenshield will pass through their lands. . . " Galadriel's voice tapered off.

Mari sighed deeply. "Well, I doubt I can put in a good word for him with Lord Thranduil."

"Yet you hoped to influence me?" Galadriel teased.

Taken off guard, Mari laughed, feeling embarrassed. "He hasn't done much to recommend himself. My travel companions are not exactly dying to meet him." She shook her head. "I'm sure there's an explanation for his decisions but. . . " Sighing she continued, "There usually is."

The Lady nodded. "You need not concern yourselves with your request, but I urge you to seek out the captain." Her cheeks rounded slightly and her eyes gleamed. "Yes, you did see her in the mirror," she confirmed.

"Thought so. I suppose she'll be charged with Thorin then?" Galadriel nodded and Mari couldn't hold back a snicker and then she winced. "That is positively mean!"

The Lady's warmth remained intact. "I believe they will find common ground, though they may need some. . . aid."

"Which is why we need to see Tauriel." Mari nodded.

Galadriel's eyes grew distant. "It's growing late and I will not detain you. You are needed elsewhere."

Mari smiled slightly. "Thank you. For everything."

Galadriel gazed sincerely at her. "I know your heart."

With a slight bow of her head and a fleeting smile, the Lady of the Light took her leave. Hesitantly Mari left too, heading back to the small house in the treetops that she had stayed in the past months.

. . .

Kili was not asleep. Mari grew alarmed as she stepped inside the bedroom and found him sitting on the floor, on his knees, with his arms wrapped around himself. In the darkness she couldn't make out if his eyes were open or closed from the way he sat, absolutely still aside from his shallow breathing.

Mari hurried over to him, sank down to the floor, and without hesitation she put her hands on his shoulders. Though she saw sweat beading on his forehead he was cool to the touch. This close she saw that his eyes were in fact open, if only just. His breathing changed briefly as she touched him, but he didn't move or look at her.

"Kili, what's the matter?" she asked, trying to keep herself calm. It wouldn't help him if she stopped thinking and acting rationally.

He drew a ragged deeper breath and glanced up at her. "You remember. . . once, you asked me. . . It was the night before the battle. Greenfields." Swallowing hard, he momentarily closed his eyes. "You asked if I felt pain or felt out of sorts. And I answered that I generally don't. But there are times when I do. . . Now is such a time."

His chin sank towards his chest and his breath was deliberately slow. "I've had this, whatever it is, happen to me for as long as I remember. Mam always said it was because I grew so rapidly from time to time, which Dwarves don't generally do."

Mari inched closer and pushed his hair out of his face, caressing his cheek, while she tried to assess his condition, thinking of everything she could remember from the first aid course years ago in school. Not for the first time she wished she had Google at her fingertips.

Light, she thought. I must have light. She pushed herself off the floor and found the lamps, lit them, and brought a couple near to aid her. Kili had raised his head and kept a half-lidded eye on what she was doing, allowing her to get a good look at his face. He had a fairly good colour, not overly pale nor rosy, no blue lips or any other signs indicating he had heart issues. He didn't run a fever, that much she already knew, and his eyes were clear and not glazed or yellow. She lifted the lamp the closest to her to be near his face and saw the pupils react, just as they should. Putting down the lamp she put her fingers over his pulse point on the neck and closed her eyes, concentrating on it. As she had suspected, it was strong and calm.

There was no obvious reason why he should be in distress, and she frowned as she opened her eyes again.

"I can't find anything. I admit that I'm hardly a healer, but. . . "

He nodded. "You still know a fair bit." A small smile pulled at the corners of his lips upwards as he continued. "I think this is something permanent, something no one can heal. I simply have to live with it. It only troubles me that it has been coming and going so much lately. It's stronger too. I never used to feel it this much."

She sat back on her heels. "Are you saying you've had this a lot recently?"

With a shrug he looked away. "Not a lot. It happens."

"Have you asked anyone to look at you?" Mari forced down the fear that threatened to turn into anger with him for keeping this to himself. Anger would make him defensive, and he'd be even less likely to seek help.

"No," he whispered.

Pressing her lips into a thin line, Mari debated with herself what to say next. The images she had seen in the mirror had not indicated that anything was wrong with him, not even in the images that showed the result of her failure. Surely, if it were important, it would have come up?

"Someone could possibly tell me here, but I'd rather not know. Not now. I don't want to be told I would have to stay behind when you leave, because you will have to go, with or without me." He stubbornly ground his teeth together.

"Not even if it saved your life?" Mari wanted to face-palm. Well of course. Kili would have to be ordered to stay where he was. He'd die trying to reach Erebor – she already knew this. She stared at him as she wondered how she would handle this.

"It's been happening to me all my life. I've been around seventy-six years, Mari. I think I'll manage a while longer," he replied with a gentle smile, and despite everything she felt reassured, which was completely illogical.

"But you said it has become stronger," she protested, fighting the inclination to give in and leave it be. "More frequent," she added lamely.

"It has always been coming and going. It could be that I'm simply more inflexible, now that I'm older." He cracked a lopsided smile. "Stone, remember?"

"That's ridiculous, and you know it." She glowered at him, but he only kept smiling, and her annoyance quickly dissipated.

Closing his eyes he breathed deeply and when he opened them again, he looked better. His eyes opened wider, his posture relaxed and his grip on himself slackened.

"It's ebbing away," he murmured.

She sat watching him gradually regain his composure. "You say all the time that Dwarves don't get ill. Is there really no known illness that could cause something like this? Nothing you've ever heard of?" she asked. He shook his head in response.

"What of an outside force?" she mused, and her eyes slid to the nearby lamp. "I'm fairly sure what happened to Thorin was because of something influencing him, not any inner weakness. You should have been affected, but you never were. And not Dain. . . " She suddenly clamped her mouth shut and darted a stare at him.

Kili had tilted his head to the side, studying her intently. She winced and looked away.

"What kind of outside source?" he prodded.

She sighed deeply. "Me and my big mouth."

"So Uncle will suffer the same fate as his father and his grandfather," Kili sighed. Looking pained he nodded. "I suspected it."

"We don't know that," she repeated stubbornly. "Besides, whatever is affecting him – if that happens – is clearly not the same as what's affecting you. This place offers protection against anything of that sort. Maybe you're just. . . allergic to something." She smirked. "To Elves?"

Kili chuckled. "That would explain why it's been picking up lately and grown stronger."

"Exactly." She shook her head. "No, it can't be. I mean, it's not like there have been Elves nearby every time you've experienced this, has there?"

"No, there haven't."

"Thought so," she said. Again in her mind, she went over the scenes the mirror had shown her. Maybe Dis was right? Maybe it was just something linked to growth. And wouldn't Galadriel or any of the healers react if there was something sincerely wrong? It would seem unlikely they would overlook something that was a cause for real concern. The Lady of Light didn't seem like she'd do it, and Kili was friendly with the healers, Thonor in particular. There was no reason for them to turn a blind eye.

"I can't convince you to have Thonor look at you, can I?" she asked half-heartedly.

"I'm not dying," Kili said firmly. Mari arched her eyebrows at him. "I should think someone here would have noticed. They looked us all over as we arrived after all," he continued, echoing her own thoughts.

"But what if something like this happens in a critical situation?"

"When it happens, it happens when I'm asleep. I wake up from it. It has never started while I've been awake." He lifted his hand and nudged her nose with a half-smile. "It's why you haven't noticed. You're asleep too and I take care to not wake you." As she opened her mouth to scold him for keeping it from her, his fingers slipped from her nose to her mouth, in a hushing motion.

"You were seriously wounded, struggling to survive. Then you were recovering. I could not put this on your shoulders as well."

Reluctantly she nodded and he removed his fingers from her lips. "Doesn't mean it couldn't happen when you're awake."

"But as it never has." He looked at her in earnest and she couldn't help smiling. Whatever this was, it was now gone, as if it never happened, and he was once again very much the Kili she knew.

"So you were asleep? How did you end up on the floor?" she asked, glancing around them.

"I crawled out of bed to drink some."

"Did you succeed in reaching the pitcher?"

He looked sheepish. "No."

She gripped his hand and quickly got on her feet, pulling him along with her. As she turned to cross the floor to the pitcher, he caught her by her waist, stopping her.

"Why are you late?" he asked, searching her face when she looked back at him.

"I ran into Galadriel. We had a. . . chat." She made a face at her obvious failure at making it sound casual. "I looked into her mirror."

Kili's lips parted slightly and his eyes rounded, and his grip on her firmed. Mari shrugged.

"I know I've said I don't want to know, but I'm like a bloody cat. I just can't stay away." She could tell the questions were lining up in his mind, and how he held back for all he was worth.

"That mirror is fond of using fear as motivator, showing the result of failure," she continued wryly. "But I already knew this, so of course it came at me from another angle, no less frightening."

He wrapped her into a tight embrace. "How I wish I knew what to do to make things right," he sighed.

"You will. You will do a lot," she murmured back.

"But will it be enough?"

Mari was quiet for a while. "We'll make sure it is," she replied.

o.o.o

_Minas Tirith, Gondor, January 2941 TA_

"You do realise that our son is married," Celarion said calmly as he leaned back in his chair.

Dis sighed and set down the wine glass. This discussion again, she thought. "Depends who you ask, as you are aware of by now." She gave him a pointed look.

"I never did understand why you need go through all of that ceremony," he mused, watching her contemplatively.

"Most," Dis emphasised the word while giving him a piercing look, "would probably attribute it to our 'greedy nature', and there  _is_  a practical aspect of it, but we feel a need to show to the world. . . well, to our own kind anyway, the importance we put in the bonds we tie."

His brow rose a fraction. "We put a lot of importance in such bonds too."

"Didn't say you don't." She stared at the glass for a beat as she gathered her thoughts.

"We never do things in small measure. If we build a home, it's the grandest we can afford. We dress the most elaborately we can. We decorate ourselves with not only metals and gems, but with skin-deep paintings and pierce skin to add even more possibilities for jewellery." Drawing a deeper breath, she aimed her eyes at him again, gauging his reactions. They had never actually talked about these things, always staying in the moment, not looking back or to the future. They'd both known there really was none, though neither had touched on it. And now? She could stay here. Not go north. Not challenge her own. She brushed it aside. There was Kili and he had a right to know, so she would have to travel north.

Snapping out of her thoughts she continued. "Our hair is not just hair, but part of the ornament, braided and styled, with added baubles and clasps."

At this a small smile lit Celarion's face and eyes went to her long curly and unbound hair. She smirked back as she could sense what he was thinking. He knew the unspoken importance of their hair after all.

"We are material beings," she continued lightly. "Naturally we couldn't let something as important as marriage pass unnoticed. It begs to be elaborately celebrated."

"And because we do die sooner or later, drawing up contracts is a sensible thing to do. That's the practical side of matters. Contracts make life so much easier, but simply signing a piece of paper to clarify boundaries and heritage between two people is a quite dreary way to settle matters of the heart, wouldn't you say so?"

He nodded thoughtfully. "But you cannot choose freely. You admit that you don't think you could be allowed to formalise things according to your traditions, and that your son will share your fate. My kin does recognise the state of things, even if they don't approve." He shrugged.

Dis raised her eyes and caught her reflection in the window panes. Staring at herself she pondered what she was part of. She hadn't thought about the political aspects of her actions until afterwards. While others who had chosen non-Dwarven companions could be ignored and treated as if they didn't exist, her ancestry made her difficult to ignore and forget. It would shake their entire society once it became known.

While she didn't look forward to facing the revelation and everyone's reactions, she knew she would, and she'd not cower or try to hide. She'd face it all. She had always done so. It was her way.

The only thing that could keep this from becoming public knowledge – and that was only if they could choose, which she wasn't certain they could – was that it would put Kili in the line of fire. He never had a choice. On the other hand, he had made a choice himself which made the truth worth revealing.

In the corner of her eye she caught Celarion studying her, patiently waiting for her to speak. She'd have to start explaining because he needed to know and understand. He was part of this too, and if he wished to have any contact with his son, he'd have to face the same things as she would have to.

"There's a fear, and it hasn't lessened over the centuries as our numbers have been declining, that we may lose ourselves, change, cease to be what we have been and are. If we lose what we imagine defines us, what makes us Dwarves, what are we then?" She turned her eyes to him, tilting her head and raising her eyebrows questioningly.

"This instils fear in many hearts, in particular in times of hardship, real or imagined."

Pursing his lips, he nodded, then narrowed his eyes a fraction. "It's still harsh not to even acknowledge what cannot be changed."

She leaned forward in her chair, putting her elbows on the table to support herself. "But if we do, it means we accept transformation. What we are must be redefined."

"True, but such a transformation will happen anyway. You cannot hinder it. And our son is not the only part-Dwarf in existence." Casually he leaned back in his chair, something she by now knew he did in a discussion when he had a strong opinion.

Dis sighed and nodded. "Yes, it's already happening. But by not accepting this and instead pushing them away, you create a sense of a pure people, a collective, easily defined. It makes people feel safe, knowing life is stable and reliable."

Her face hardened and so did her voice. "If the mongrels are elsewhere, out of sight, they don't count. Where would they fit if they were accepted? What would happen to the structures, the hierarchies, so carefully crafted and maintained by the rich and powerful? The impure would want a slice of the cake and those who have the most are the least willing to share. So they're banned." Her voice was bitter now. "And if they pollute some other race it's not our concern."

Celarion winced but didn't comment.

"And don't tell me Elves don't hold similar ideas."

"Elves are not infallible. Ambitious Noldo parents do not wish to see their offspring marry anyone Silvan. Imagine what they would think of a Dunedain or a Dwarf." A small smile quirked his lips.

"Are your parents ambitious?" Dis asked. She had no idea if he had told his relatives about her, though she suspected he hadn't.

His smile fell. "I think the fate of Doriath has more to do with what they may think of you, than any ambition. I am not pure High Elf myself, as I have Sindar, Maia and even the blood of Men flowing in my veins."

She paled slightly. "Doriath?" she echoed. The well-known story of the Silmarils that had caused so much misery was one of the stories she most vividly remembered from her childhood, in particular after they had lost their home. Thorin had told her the story on many occasions. With time she had understood that there were other sides to the story. It was not difficult to understand the resentments Elves held onto because of Doriath.

"My great grandfather's brother was Thingol, ruler of Doriath," he said matter-of-factly.

Dis stared at him as if she had never seen him before. "You never mentioned. . . I didn't know. . . " She swallowed. "And you still look at me?"

"At every opportunity," he retorted dryly, then sighed. "You are not to blame for what happened. It wasn't even Longbeards responsible for the Dwarven part of the mayhem." He made a face. "It can certainly be discussed if my family should speak of atrocities, considering I'm also related, just as Lady Galadriel, to the kinslayer Fëanor and his descendants. Elves are not beyond wrath, revenge, murder and questionable behaviour."

"I only now realise how little I know of you," she said weakly.

Celarion's eyes slipped away from her and he made a restless move with his right hand. "You never asked, and I didn't see any point in speaking of it."

"Why?" He had known who she was all along. It was not possible for her to conceal her ancestry once her brother had visited, which he did shortly after they had met the first time. Even if the Dwarven expatriates were secretive, an Elf such as Celarion would at least understand that something important was going on with the visitor She had been fairly certain at the time that he had shamelessly inquired too. To her, he had only been an Elf, and an Elf with mixed blood at that, living in obscurity among Men. It had never occurred to her that he could be part of an influential family too.

"I never spoke of it because it wasn't important." She looked aghast which prompted him to hurriedly explain. "I knew our time would be short. Speaking of such things wouldn't have made any difference to us and I wanted the time we would have to be about good things. The simple things that bring us joy. Status and history between us didn't matter and I was happy to leave it out."

Dis mind was reeling. And to think that they weren't just any Elves either, but High Elves! If anything could give her brother a heart attack, this would be it.

The thought brought a pained smile to her face. Her dear brother, whom she loved so much but whose hatred of Elves was so legendary, would he be able to accept this? She pushed it from herself. She'd deal with it once it was time to cross that bridge. There was nothing she could do before that point anyway.

"You are hardly just any Dwarf yourself, after all." Celarion smirked at her, and she was pulled out of her stupefaction. "The granddaughter of the last King Under the Mountain, sister to the current king-in-exile, a Longbeard who can recite her royal ancestry all the way back to Khazad Dûm and Durin the Deathless? If we are to quibble over our respective heritages, I would say you are the higher ranking one, since you're an actual princess."

In theory he was correct. It was just that her brother was king over. . . nothing. She was born a princess, but she hadn't been one since she was ten. Not really. All of that had been taken from her when Smaug descended on them. Her One on the other hand, he'd had a choice. He had not been driven from his home, yet here he was.

"What are you doing here, Celarion? Here in Gondor, that is," she whispered.

His eyes lost their focus and he stared ahead at nothing. "Life tends to simply slip past when you reside in places such as Lothlorien. One day is added to the one prior in an endless stream of time, most of it spent with reading, music, art, discussions that never end. . . I was never a warrior, so there was nothing to even remotely give a sense of true excitement or fear."

"For many that is enough. For me? I had to leave. My mother accused the Edain blood for my restlessness, while my father gave my Maia grandmother credit for it. Neither acknowledged that their Elven forefathers were quite restless souls too." A wide grin spread over his face and his eyes refocussed on Dis. He shrugged.

"Ceremony and luxury never interested me. I enjoyed being part of this restless world, watching its swells and waves. Daily life is never a gliding stream here as it is in Lorien."

Stunned Dis nodded and looked at her wine. "By Durin's axe, I'll never understand how we found each other."

Celarion burst into laughter. "One of the mysteries of this world," he said and nodded. "At the time I simply did not understand. How could a soul of a mortal speak to me so, and not just any mortal but one of a people like a constant thorn in our side? With time I have sensed there may be an answer, that we are part of the current of change."

"I can't turn my eyes to the future, but that does not mean I'm unaware of things stirring, nets being spun, some ever working in the shadows, on several sides. We had a son and it is for a reason."

"To die?" Her voice was sharp.

With a frown he stilled. "No."

She ducked her head. "It is what I'm expecting."

He leaned forward in earnest. "Why is that?"

"I have all my life lived with death as a reality. Not the kind that will come eventually to all of our kind, but the one that cuts down the young and strong as well as the old and seasoned on the battlefield. That Thorin lives is a small miracle. Frerin has long been in the Hall of Waiting. I learned recently the likelihood of this being the fate for both my sons is great."

For a long while he studied her. "You are not being entirely truthful. You believe they will die reclaiming Erebor."

She hissed at him. "Stop reading me," she snapped. "And I was being diplomatic."

A small smirk briefly formed on his lips. "The future is in a constant state of flux. It may come true – and it may not." He hesitated for a beat and then dropped his eyes to the table in front of him. "It's not too late to have more children."

She stared at him. "What did you say?" she whispered.

Squaring his shoulders he slowly raised his gaze and met hers. "Kili doesn't have to be the only child between us."

"Despite what you know. . . " she began and then swallowed.

"Yes. Because they would have each other. Kili is alone, even if he has a brother. But once Fili is gone. . . "

"That's assuming Kili survives the coming year."

"I'm expecting him too. I won't accept anything else. And who said we need to stop at one more?"

They stared at each other across the table for a long while. Dis broke eye contact first, her eyes flickering away and landing on her wine again. Impulsively she reached out, gripped the glass, brought it to her lips and emptied it. Celarion raised an eyebrow at her.

"Want more?" he asked, revealing a faint amusement in his voice.

She put down the glass on the table with a slight thud, and nodded. "Aye. I definitely need more."

He fished up the bottle and filled her glass, then moved to fill his own. As he put the bottle back on the table, their eyes met again and Dis pursed her lips to hold back a smirk. Slowly she shook her head and brought the glass to her lips again.

o.o.o

_North Undeep, the Brown Lands, February 2941 TA_

Tova studied the Dwarves and most keenly the one Urzul, Shel, and Homraz called the Fairy. She knew she should scuttle back to the others immediately, but she couldn't tear herself away. Not yet. She had spotted them by chance, as she was out scouting for certain roots, and she had been forced to dive for cover to keep them from spotting her. Now they were riding past quite close to her hiding place, giving her a good look at them.

She had never seen Dwarves before and she marvelled at how much they still looked like people. They were obviously shorter and definitely more massive than the Dunlendings she lived among, but still, they were a lot more like herself than the Orcs were. One could think they were horrible little monsters, considering what was said about them.

What really caught her attention though was the Fairy. Or Mari as she quickly learned the woman's name was. The brief closer look she got only fed her curiosity and she couldn't resist the temptation to follow them, which wasn't too difficult in the landscape they were traversing. Once they had passed her by she very carefully began following them, falling back enough to be out of earshot, often tracking their path by following the imprints of hooves their ponies made, rather than keeping them in her line of sight.

As they stopped for the night, Tova curled up, huddling as close as she could get undetected, watching them intently.

Their routine was all familiar – taking care of the horses, fetching water, starting a fire, setting things in order for the night, eating a meal before settling down for a while before it was time to sleep. One of them brought out a book of some sort and a quill and concentrated on writing. The dark-haired Dwarf positioned himself on his back with his head in Mari's lap, engaging her in a quiet conversation.

"Mari, can't you sing something?" the black-haired female Dwarf asked turning her face towards the flaxen-haired non-Dwarf.

Mari faced her, shaking her head while looking dismissive. "But you've heard them all. I've worn them out."

"Nonsense!" called the blond Dwarf. "There's no such thing as too many times. How many times do you think we've heard our own songs?"

"More than enough!" chuckled the dark-haired male.

"You're biased," Mari said with a smirk, looking down at him.

He grinned widely up at her. "And I'm not apologising for it!"

"Sing that one with the. . . you know!" The blond waved aimlessly in the air.

The black-haired female snickered. "Eloquently put, my Lord."

"I think he means the shadow one. Ending with the question about who will command the bottle," the scribe piped up without raising his eyes from the page he was working on.

Mari hesitated and gave the blond a long look. "It's rather solemn."

"But it's beautiful. And we don't know the words anyway," the dark-haired said with an encouraging smile, trying to catch her attention again.

"I have translated it for you so you know very well what it's about." Her eyes dipped, and she seemed to hold back a smirk as they made eye contact.

"Mari, most of our songs aren't particularly cheerful either. You know that," the black-haired woman said mildly.

Mari sighed lightly. "All right then." She shifted slightly, straightened and cleared her throat. Breathing calmly, a look of concentration seemed to sharpen her face and she opened her mouth to sing.

And Tova's world tilted.

It wasn't the voice. There were no false notes slipping out, but it wasn't an impressive voice either. It wouldn't be the first choice for a solo in a choir, but it seemed to have a decent range, and at some point Mari had most likely been singing in a choir, considering the song she was singing. It wasn't the standard repertoire for most music teachers.

Tova had never expected to hear such a song here, in Middle Earth. It was a voice of home, a home she had lost. How did this young woman know that song? The answer was obvious but it seemed fantastical. Tears started slipping down her cheeks as she listened and she wrapped her arms around herself tightly in an effort to comfort herself. She wasn't alone in this miserable world, yet in this moment she felt incredibly lonely.

The last note drifted away in the wind and Tova remained where she was, squeezing her eyes shut, pressing her face into the grass. She was horribly conflicted. Urzul expected her to report this, that the ones she had been waiting for had left Lothlorien. It was no secret what Urzul's mission was either, and before this moment it hadn't bothered Tova much. Dwarves were not friendly and whoever the Fairy was, well, she was closely associated with the Dwarves after all.

But now? The Dwarves were still only just a curiosity, but Mari. . . she was a link home. Possibly the only one she'd ever find. Composing herself, Tova dried her face and continued watching the group by the fire, waiting for an opening when she could slip away. As they stirred to go to roll up in their blankets and furs to sleep, Tova stealthily slipped away in the darkness, making her way back to the Orcs she was travelling with.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the shadow of Mirkwood both friends and foes meet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for the long hiatus - I was sidetracked. Here we go again though.

_Lach Celduin, Rhovanion, April 2941 TA_

For weeks they had chased north. Urzul couldn't believe the Dwarves had managed to slip through her net, but they had, and once she had discovered it, there was only one thing to do – set off towards the north as fast as their legs could carry them. She had been forced to break her promise to Widuc about the healer girl, because she could not afford to waste time to take her back. It was unfortunate, but couldn't be helped.

The young woman had not had an easy time. Men were quite simply weaker but every time Urzul's degree of annoyance reached critical levels, she reminded herself that they were still saving time by bringing her along, and it might pay off in the long run too. She was a healer, after all. The girl had at least had the decency not to complain, that Urzul had to give her.

When they finally had caught up she had decided against simply attacking them from the rear. This was a heavily armed and well-trained enemy. They had to be taken by surprise or she and her companions wouldn't stand a chance. In this landscape there were no obvious nor good places for an ambush and once the Dwarves crossed the Celduin, as she expected them to do, there would be even fewer. Their only option would be a night attack, before dawn.

Pushing hard, they had bypassed the Dwarves who stayed on the road north, bending and following the river. Slipping into Mirkwood, they took the short cut to the river crossing Lach Celduin. Urzul calculated that the Dwarves would have to stop and camp for the night somewhere along the river bank and considering that evening was upon them, it would happen before they attempted to cross the river.

She sent Tova to scout. Over the course of their months together she had learned that the girl had a gift for keeping herself hidden and going unnoticed, which would come in handy now. After sending her away they settled down to wait. An uneasy wait for Urzul.

She glowered at the forest, dark and ominous in the twilight. This attack was really pushing things too far, considering that they were just within the Elven territory, right at the entrance of the Old Forest Road. But no matter which route these Dwarves would take, she had to strike now, or she'd lose her opportunity. It was an unthinkable option after this winter.

Well into the night Tova came slipping back, reporting that the Dwarves had camped quite close and didn't seem to be particularly wary. They had some sort of watch rotation, and they had chosen a spot that was reasonably easy to defend, but with the element of surprise on their side, it should go their way, the girl reported.

Urzul noticed her uneasiness and studied her closely. Something seemed to have changed and it made Urzul apprehensive.

"You know why we are here," she reminded the young woman.

Tova stared at her feet and nodded mutely. In the corner of her eye she noticed Shel studying them closely. Shel was seasoned and hardened by their life, but she had the entire time been looking out for this young woman and it was hardly surprising that she drew close now.

Urzul could not risk this mission. Something about the way this young woman acted now made her wary. Despite not having any reason before not to trust her, in this instant she sensed there was danger ahead.

"Why are you troubled?" The question had to be asked, Urzul decided.

Tova tensed up. "I think it's wrong," she mumbled, stubbornly staring down at the ground.

Urzul arched an eyebrow and glanced at Shel who returned the look in a similar fashion.

"These are descendants of murderers. You saw what they did to Shel and Homraz. They are not gentle and kind, but enemies." Urzul did not have to explain anything, but this girl was not a soldier and they had brought her along though they had promised not to. Even if she just had become useless to them in this planned attack, they might have need of her later and she had to defuse any conflicts that could sabotage the raid.

Finally Tova raised her eyes and there was a hard glint in them. "I don't care about the Dwarves. I know you have a long history of bad blood, but Mari does not. I know she only came here recently, that she's not from Middle Earth."

Urzul stared incredulously at Tova. So Tova had learned her name and something that changed her view of the Fairy. "She's in cahoots with the Dwarves, and she's not as innocent as she seems," Urzul ground out.

"I'm not saying she's innocent. I just can't. . . " Tova looked away.

"No, I can tell. You'll be staying here. If I catch you interfering, you will be punished accordingly. Is that clear?" Urzul growled. Tova nodded and backed away, making herself scarce. The uneasy feeling in the pit of her belly kept growing. This was not good.

Dismissing it, she instead ordered Shel and Homraz to start moving. They had a mission to complete.

. . .

Tauriel watched from her position on a branch how the Orcs below hurriedly moved along, heading towards the edge of the forest. They were alert, probably sensing they had someone shadowing them, but the closeness to the open land and the river made them slacken somewhat in their watchfulness. She smiled mercilessly. It had been a mistake for them to venture this far north and they would never return back to the pits from whence they came. She and her guard would make sure of that.

Without a sound she moved from one branch to the next, keeping an eye on how her fellow forest guards advanced and closed in on the enemy on the ground. A sense of grim satisfaction filled her as she watched them. It was her people, and they were very good at what they were doing.

. . .

The Dwarven camp was quiet, as expected. A very small fire, only detectable once you came close enough to nearly stumble on them, was lit, and by it sat the blond prince. He was occupying himself with his weapons, at the same time as he kept an eye on the surroundings. Urzul positioned herself, ready with her bow, waiting for Shel to slip into her place.

The plan was for her to shoot the watch, while Shel would make certain he really did die, just in case. Homraz would make a move on those sleeping, as would Shel once the blond was dispatched, while Urzul would hang back shooting down anyone who either tried to flee or had a trick up their sleeve. Simple plan. Effective. It should be over in a few moments.

Urzul drew steadying breaths, then slowly and without a sound nocked an arrow. Waiting.

. . .

Right on the edge of the forest the Elves launched themselves at the Orcs. The majority of the Orcs stepped up the pace and continued onwards attempting to outrun the Elves, leaving those who got caught in the melee to fend for themselves. Tauriel along with most of her guards pursued the fleeing contingent, now out in the relatively open terrain, making perfect targets for her deadly arrows. They would not get far.

. . .

Tova stared up at the sky above her, but she really didn't see the stars. Far in the east the sky was becoming lighter and within half an hour dawn would be here, as would Urzul, Shel, and Homraz with their task completed. The stars blurred and Tova blinked. A tear slipped down her temple, and then another one. She'd never known Mari and she never would, but it still felt like she was losing her home all over again. Sniffling quietly she dried her eyes with her sleeve.

Nothing would really change, she knew that, but somehow it would still feel different. What would she do once they were done here? What was her life to become? She sighed deeply, feeling very small and frightened.

Suddenly she snapped her head up. The unmistakable sounds of people running, punctuated by cries reached her ears, and she jumped up, trying to assess the situation while still keeping herself concealed. In the faint light she mostly only saw a mass move towards her, but she realised they were Orcs, and they were hunted. The only ones hunting Orcs here would be Elves.

She was running before her mind had reached any conclusion. Urzul, Shel, and Homraz had to be warned and she could only hope she would reach them in time. It was difficult to run in the darkness and she kept stumbling in the rough terrain, falling and scraping hands and knees. The noise grew stronger as the fleeing Orcs were closing in on her, urging her on.

She hadn't come very far when she knew there was no way she would reach her friends before they were alerted by the calamity itself. The question was if she'd even reach them before she found herself in the middle of the brawl. She was almost on top of the Dwarven camp when she swerved to the right and dove into cover, hoping to save herself by hiding. She could only hope that Urzul and the others would escape. A moment later the fleeing Orcs' thundering feet were all around her – as were their pursuers.

. . .

Mari was brutally awakened to pandemonium. As she was scrambling out of her blankets, Kili quickly shoved her to the side before she could grab her weapons. In a mad scramble on all fours, she reached a decent spot for hiding and rolled in there, only to slam into something, or rather someone. In the darkness she blinked at the person who seemed to be as panicked as she herself was.

"Mari," a young female voice breathed and the girl to whom the voice belonged reached out to grab hold of her, as if to make sure what she was seeing was actually there. The next moment, an Orc screeching just above them made them both duck down and press themselves to the ground. The immediate ruckus seemed to move on however and they stayed very still for long moments listening, trying to guess what was happening around them.

The other girl suddenly gripped Mari's wrist and she snapped her eyes open.

"We must move. Now!" the girl wheezed and started crawling out of their hiding place. Mari did her best to follow as quickly as she possibly could while still keeping low to the ground. She had no idea where they were heading or if she really could trust this mystery girl who knew her name, but she had little choice.

Several times they were nearly caught, but eventually the fighting seemed to have moved on and was dying down. They found a good hiding place behind a stone, mostly sheltered by a large windswept thorny bush of some sort, and Mari found herself being pushed in first.

"You're the smaller one anyway," the other girl whispered apologetically, and squeezed in next to her. She let her head fall back against the stone's surface, while closing her eyes. In the faint light that dawn was bringing Mari saw that she had been crying. Her face was dirty and streaked from tears, her hair was a tangled mess and overall, she was dirty and her clothes were torn and in a poor state.

As Mari was about to speak, the other girl snapped her eyes open, looking alarmed. She made a hushing sign as she shot Mari a glance and they both listened sharply.

"Elf," the girl mouthed. They stayed very still as a minute passed by, then another minute. "It has moved on," she breathed and turned to Mari, revealing a storm of emotions – fear, anger and sadness – and her eyes were like pools, about to overflow.

"I have to leave. You must stay here until it's complete day. Then it's safe." The Elves won't cut you down in broad daylight.

Mari caught her arm. "Why are you heading out there? Who are you?"

"I have to find the others," she rasped out and paused. "I can't explain more, but my name is Tova." It took Mari a second to register that the girl wasn't speaking Westron any longer, but Mari's native language. She gaped at the girl who slowly pulled out of her grasp. "I hope to see you again some time." With a brief and sad smile she was gone.

Mari stared at the spot she had vacated, wondering if it all had been a dream. She didn't dare sticking out her head to take a look, recognising the danger of being a moving object in the twilight. Instead she settled back against the stone to wait for the sun to rise. A lump formed in her throat as she thought of Kili and the others. She had no idea if they had made it either. Banishing her fears she closed her eyes, waiting for the light. It was all she could do.

. . .

Something blocked the light and warmth, waking her up, and she opened her eyes, blinking rapidly as memories of the early morning slammed into her. Looking up she saw a vision; the outline of a woman, slender yet clearly strong and in the sunrise her long hair flamed like a fire. It was an Elf but not just any Elf, and Mari's eyes widened as she recognised her.

"Tauriel?" Mari managed and struggled out of her hiding place. Quickly her eyes darted around, taking in the surroundings, only relaxing slightly when Kili drew up behind Tauriel. He pushed past the Elf and landed on his knees with little concern for any discomfort and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight.

"Mahal, I have been looking everywhere for you!" he murmured and pulled back, cradling her face in his hands.

"I took cover," she replied lamely, wincing at the insufficient explanation.

Kili nodded and smiled at her in relief. "I had to push you out of the way or you'd been injured again. I'm so relieved you managed to find a place to hide." He settled back somewhat, catching her hands, gently brushing dirt from her palms.

Mari's eyes strayed back to Tauriel, who hadn't moved.

"You're far from the Woodland Realm, captain," she said quietly, studying the captain.

Tauriel's brow knitted and she shot a stare towards the west. "Actually, we consider the Forest Road as part of our domain." She looked back. "And you are at its eastern entrance."

"We are?" Mari turned towards the edge of the forest.

"You're almost upon Lach Celduin," Tauriel continued absently. "The river crossing. Why do you know my name?"

"I have heard of you before," Mari replied evasively, avoiding looking back at the Elf.

"My name is not widely known outside of the Woodland Realm." Tauriel did not hide that she didn't believe her.

"In some places it's better known than you can imagine." Mari finally turned back to the captain, meeting her gaze.

"Who are you?" Tauriel asked with narrowing eyes.

Mari gave a pause, trying to come up with a good answer which wouldn't involve having to retell her entire story. "I'm not entirely sure myself. I died, but I live, changed, yet not." She made a face at herself. Entirely too much. . . Gandalf and Galadriel in that reply.

The Elven captain tilted her head slightly to the side, and Mari could tell she tried to read her. She smiled at the Elf but didn't say anything. Tauriel's eyes shifted to Kili, who slowly stood, meeting her gaze. She looked conflicted for a moment, darting a look at Mari once more.

"It's a good thing our paths crossed, because we actually are seeking your kind," Kili cut in.

Tauriel's attention went back to him, appearing to look right through him, temporarily distracted. "Our borders are closed. Are you not aware of this. . . Dwarf?" Tauriel replied sounding dazed.

A distant smile tugged at his lips and a streak of pain flashed in his eyes. "I am."

She shot a glance at the forest. "I cannot let you in."

"We could trespass," Kili offered and his smile widened and warmed.

"But you aren't. Granted, you are here, very close to it, but you have not yet stepped into the forest. You must know what would happen if you tried. I would have to. . . deter you."

"Would you kill us if we still tried to enter?" He arched his eyebrows questioningly at her.

Her jaw worked for a moment. "No. However, I would have to bring you before Lord Thranduil."

Kili nodded, his warm smile still in place. "Aye. What we counted on."

She took half a step towards him with a frown forming. "Are you unfamiliar with his views on Dwarves?"

He shook his head and a half-chuckle escaped him. "Though I haven't met him in person, I can easily imagine. He holds Dwarves as dearly as my uncle holds Elves, I suppose." He sobered. "I doubt we'll face any issues because of it though." Carefully he extracted something from his belt and held it out to Tauriel, whose eyes widened at the sight. Her gaze darted back to his for a second, then back at the coin he presented to her.

"I have no doubt he already knows about our impending arrival, too."

In the corner of Mari's eye she spotted Fili drawing close, looking grimly at the Elven captain. Tauriel didn't spare him a glance though, as she put her hand over her heart and bowed her head. "I greet you and bid you welcome to our lands." She appeared to be somewhat shaken but there was no hesitation in her greeting. "I am Tauriel, captain of the Mirkwood Forest Guard."

Kili nodded. "Le sulion, Tauriel." A mischievous glint sparked in his eyes as he saw her surprise. "I'm Kili, second son of Dis, daughter of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under the Mountain, nephew to the current king, Thorin Oakenshield." He turned to Fili. "My brother."

Fili let the silence stretch a beat too long before he spoke. "I'm Prince Fili," he paused, "heir of Durin." Kili had lined up with his brother and they bowed in unison. "At your service."

Like a pillar of salt, Tauriel stared at them. Kili and Fili straightened and while Kili smiled warmly at the captain, Fili looked even more displeased than before.

"Mae g'ovannen," she said, and appeared to pull herself out of her initial shock.

Kili went on to introduce the rest of them and Tauriel returned the gesture, telling them who her closest colleagues were.

"Gather your belongings. We must move swiftly." The captain's eyes hardened as she studied the surroundings. "Somehow a few managed to escape and they may be part of a larger troop further south."

Fili shook his head. "No, they are not. I wouldn't worry too much about them for now." He sent a long look to the south.

"It's not the first time we have come across those particular ones," Kili explained, his smile disappearing.

"You are hunted?" Tauriel asked.

"It appears so," he acquiesced.

The red-haired Elf looked like she had a thousand questions tumbling around in her mind, but she seemed to push them aside, giving him a sharp nod.

"If you please," she motioned at the forest. "We'll lead the way and make certain those foul creatures won't follow." She called out in Elvish and everyone set in motion.

. . .

It was surprisingly warm in the forest, stifling even. Despite the uneven terrain, which posed its own challenges, in particular for their ponies, they were grateful for these four-legged friends. Any ideas of carrying their packs themselves under these conditions were not ones they liked to entertain.

Mirkwood was not what Lothlorien was, that much was clear. Here was none of the effervescent magic of Lorien. Instead it was dark and the trees were twisted, as if they were in pain. There was something affecting them, but it was not Elvish – or not anything Elvish they had come across before.

They quickly lost any sense of where they were or of time but eventually they came out of the oppressive woods, wandering on top of cliffs overlooking a river. As they surveyed the landscape around them they found they were in the middle of a vast forest, with the occasional cliffs and ridges sticking up in the vicinity, and the river cutting a gash in the vegetation, from west to east.

The mugginess eased up here and there was some wind tugging at stray hairs, making it easier to breathe. The sun was quite low on the horizon, glowing red. Fili was beginning to dart questioning looks at Tauriel who showed no sign of slowing down or stopping for the night.

Soon they came upon a waterfall plunging water to the river deep below, and Tauriel finally gave the order to halt. By the rocky shores of the river, now significantly smaller, they set up their night camp.

"We'll not see much water after this, so I recommend you fill water skins and wash anything you need washed. We're a week from the King's Halls," she told them as they took care of their ponies.

Fili motioned at the horses. "They drink a fair bit. If there's no water. . . "

"Drinking water is not an issue, though it's on the stale side. Indulging in bathing is however not possible," she smiled.

Kili gave her a once-over. "So just how do you stay so clean and prim then?" he asked cheekily. Mari pursed her lips to hold back her smirk, and busied herself with her pack.

"We're orderly by nature," Tauriel sniffed. Mari chanced a glance at her and saw that the captain clearly had caught on, returning the banter.

Kili's eyebrows shot up. "So what you're saying is that we can't help our shoddy appearance?" he said with mock indignation.

"Those are your own words. I did not say so. Although. . . " she paused and looked pointedly at him, letting her eyes travel from head to foot and back again.

Fili's expression was slowly growing darker as he followed the conversation, but he didn't interrupt. Kili only grinned at her, offering one of his most brilliantly mischievous smiles. "We're diamonds in the rough. In all aspects. And don't be so sure you can stay that squeaky clean." He returned the scrutiny.

"We'll see about that," Tauriel challenged back, with a competitive glint emerging in her eyes. She gave him a short nod and continued onwards.

"We sure will," Kili murmured under his breath, still with a wide, toothy grin on his face.

They listened to the advice and did what they could to prepare for the coming week, which included a cold but thorough bath. The atmosphere was a bit tense still between the Dwarves and Elves and the Dwarves and Mari retreated to a spot closer to the waterfall, though not as hidden as Mari would have liked. She knew well how brazen the Dwarves could be, but she wasn't quite like that, and felt quite self-conscious, knowing that despite their indifferent attitude, the Elves definitely had their eyes on them.

"It's their problem if they look," Kili said breezily as he noticed Mari's glances, and discarded his garments without ceremony. Fili was no less unabashed and stepped into the water without acknowledging the cold.

"Well, this is a pissing contest, if I ever saw one," Gisla commented with a smirk as she watched the brothers acting like the water was like any ordinary bath water and not a freezing cold mountainous spring flood, quickly engaging in their usual raillery, complete with plenty of water splashing.

"What has gotten into them?" Mari hissed back, fumbling with the ribbon in her shirt.

"I don't know." Gisla shrugged.

Mari was not going to take part in such silliness and hurried to get in, making it no secret she thought it horrible. As quickly as humanly possible she used the soap and rinsed before scurrying out of the water, drying herself and getting into reasonably clean clothes as fast as she was able. She continued to ignore Kili and Fili as she lit a fire on the stony bank, filled the cauldron with water and put it in place. While she waited for the water to boil, she used the bar of soap on the garments selected for laundry, preparing them for a decent boil.

Kili and Fili finally decided they had been splashing enough once she could drop her things in the cauldron, and lazily they got out of the water, dried themselves and started slipping into their clothes.

"When they realise they're the last to get something to eat with this pace, they'll speed up," Gisla commented with a smirk, as she seated herself by the fire handing Mari a bowl of stew, digging into her own. Ori sank down next to Gisla with a bowl too, deeply concentrated on his dinner, looking very subdued. Mari eyed him quietly while she was chewing.

"Ori, what's the matter?" she asked and leaned forward in an attempt to catch his eye.

He darted a glance at her, revealing an unhappy face. "I don't like this forest," he murmured. "There's something wrong with it."

Mari nodded and sighed. "Yeah, there is. Try not to take it to heart. It's meant to frighten and confuse." Quietly she wondered why she wasn't feeling the effects much yet. She wasn't unaffected, but Ori seemed to feel it more than she did. It was odd, since she had previously seemed more susceptible to what was twisting Mirkwood than the Dwarves.

Tauriel coalesced out of the darkness around them and sat down next to Ori, reached out her hand, pausing just as she was about to place it on his shoulder, allowing it to hover an inch above it.

"May I?" she asked sincerely.

Ori looked startled, but nodded. Gently she placed her hand on his shoulder and after a brief pause she started murmuring something in Elvish. Slowly Ori's frown eased and he stared with a childlike awe at her.

"Hopefully this will be enough to last you until we make it to the King's Halls." She removed her hand from his shoulder.

"What did you do?" Ori asked with wonder.

"It's a temporary influence which will lessen the effects from the forest."

"I feel better," he whispered.

"Good. Tell me if the discomfort returns and I'll see what I can do then." She said reassuringly and made a motion to stand when Kili stopped next to her, gazing down with an enigmatic smile.

"Have you eaten?" he asked. "If you haven't I can bring you a bowl. I'm picking up one for myself anyway."

She hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Thank you; it's a most generous offer."

Kili barked a laugh. "I'm not taking down the evening star for you. Just picking up some supper. Besides, I'm entertained by the idea of keeping you seated for a while so I, for once, can look  _down_  on you, even if it's brief."

He turned and strode off towards the other fire. The captain's mouth firmed into a thin line for a beat, but then amusement got the better of her and the corners of her mouth curved upwards, and she shook her head slightly.

Fili plunked himself down on the other side of the fire with his meal in a firm grip, watching Tauriel across the fire with a furrowed brow. Gisla and Mari glanced at each other and Gisla arched her eyebrows slightly, to which Mari responded by shaking her head.

Kili quickly returned, handing Tauriel her bowl and then seated himself in the rather large space between Tauriel and Fili, either oblivious to the dark looks Fili sent her and her studious ignorance of them, or simply ignoring it. He turned to Tauriel and picked up a discussion about archery as the most natural thing in the world, and though she was cautious at first, she quickly warmed to the subject.

Mari watched them with fascination as they began trading embarrassing moments from when they learned to master their weapon of choice, snickering and laughing at their mishaps. They connected so easily, Mari almost felt guilty for coming between them. On the other hand, she reminded herself, it would spare Tauriel a lot of grief and possible death from fading. They were clearly building a friendship which certainly wasn't a bad thing, she mused.

Gisla and Fili disappeared off to the stream to rinse the clothes after finishing their meal, and Ori rose to join them. Mari took the opportunity to take Ori's place, happy simply to listen to Tauriel's and Kili's conversation. This close she couldn't help noticing a slight shake to Tauriel's hand when she used the spoon, which, Mari suspected, was what made her clutch the bowl with both hands a lot.

When Fili, Gisla, and Ori returned to the fire, they ordered Kili to help them hang the newly laundered clothes and with an apologetic smile, he hastened over them. Mari surreptitiously studied Tauriel with increasing concern as she quickly finished her supper.

"Are you ill?" Mari asked in a hushed tone, leaning close to the captain to keep the Dwarves from overhearing her.

Tauriel was startled, as if she had forgotten about Mari's presence, but relaxed again immediately.

"No." She shook her head and her eyes dipped to her hands. "It's simply taxing, countering the effects of the forest."

Mari nodded. "Just how much healing are you able to do?" she asked.

"I know how to deal with the common injuries and wounds. Dealing with the creeping foulness from the south – or worse – that depends on how it's affecting someone. It's. . . complicated. Not always possible to heal." Tauriel studied her closely. "You have walked in the shadows," she said abruptly.

"If you're referring to the Morgul poison, yes," Mari confirmed. "Last autumn I was a fool enough to be wounded by a dagger." She considered Tauriel for a few moments. "Just how intrusive can you be?"

The captain averted her eyes. "I am Silvan, not a High Elf. But no one can miss a Morgul wound."

Mari nodded and turned her attention to the Dwarves who had made quick work of the last of the laundry, putting up a crude trestle and hanging the clothes for the fire to dry them.

"I need to see to some practical matters," Tauriel said and smoothly rose to her feet, gathering bowls and spoons. "Good night." She nodded briefly at them and strode off, her step so light no sound was heard. They all looked after her and when Mari turned towards the Dwarves she had to bite down on her lower lip to not laugh, as she could clearly see what each and every one was thinking about the retreating Elven captain.

"So, has anyone come up with any new camp stories?" Mari asked and turned towards Ori with an expectant look on her face. The tense moment was gone and the others sat down, cheerfully encouraging Ori, who smiled shyly and then nodded.

"Not a story, but a game. . . of sorts," he explained.

o.o.o

The coming days were very monotonous. They descended from the rocky plateau back into the forest and from then on all they saw was the forest. The thick canopy blocked out much of the sun and the hours when they had light enough to see where they were heading were fewer than what they were used to, but Tauriel assured them they were keeping up a good pace. From time to time she joined them as they ambled along, talking soothingly to their ponies and exchanging a few words with them, but it was during the evenings Mari could witness the quickly developing friendship between Kili and Tauriel. There was almost no topic they didn't go over, even such things that neither Elves nor Dwarves would speak openly about with anyone but their own kind.

On the third day Tauriel also learned that Kili could be a patient one, when, as they passed a putrid mere, he ruined her unsoiled attire thoroughly. A simple step backwards at the right moment, shifting the balance on the fallen tree she and Kili were standing on, sent her sprawling in the mud and had Kili roaring with laughter, clinging to his pony to keep himself upright. Even Fili, who had been slowly souring over time, barked a laugh at the sight.

Tauriel slowly struggled out of the mud, and accepted a piece of cloth from Gisla to clean off the worst. Kili composed himself enough to be able to stand and sauntered past, cuffing her cheerfully on the shoulder.

"You're almost looking normal now," he said with a toothy grin.

"I don't see you covered in muck, Dwarf," she replied tartly.

Kili smiled affably at her. "Correctly observed." He chuckled at her glare and continued onwards.

. . .

How she did it, they couldn't understand, but by evening Tauriel was back to looking her usual untarnished self, and there was no hint of any musty odour.

"I'm an Elf," she replied with a lofty smirk and a glance at Kili, when asked about it.

o.o.o

_The Woodland Realm, April 2941_

The King's Halls were vast and stunning in their slight creepiness – so different to Lothlorien's ethereal beauty. Mari mused over how the two realms reflected their rulers – Lorien's proud and open light showing just how powerful Galadriel and Celeborn were, defying the growing darkness, and Thranduil's Halls, withdrawn and secretive, turned from the world outside, still powerful, but isolated.

They were being led over walkways that should not be used by those faint of heart, as the abyss below made the stomach roil with its depth. Eventually they stepped onto a platform where the Elven king stood gazing out over the vast cathedral-like hall. Incredibly tall, slender and eerily pale, he was everything one could ask an Elven ruler to be – and dressed for it too. Long robes in some silvery material with a strong spring green colour as accent, and a crown with fresh leaves woven into the headpiece he was wearing – he certainly dressed for the job he wanted, Mari mused.

In his shadow was his son, Legolas, and Mari couldn't help studying him closely, comparing him with his father, and thinking about what he would eventually be part of. This version of Legolas was clearly still his father's son, and not in a good way. His eyes were cold and she felt his disapproval through the room, and she sighed sadly.

His attention turned from the Dwarves to her, and she solemnly met his eyes with a steady gaze of her own, contemplating just how far he seemed to be from the Legolas she had come to like quite a lot in the stories she once read. As if he felt her thoughts, he started looking uncomfortable and quickly averted his eyes.

"My Lord," Tauriel began as she stepped in front of them, bowing her head.

Thranduil waved dismissively at her without giving her so much as a glance. "Yes, yes. Thank you captain," he said and slowly turned towards them. "I know who they are."

Tauriel stepped back and stood rigidly next to them where they were lined up. The king nonchalantly glided towards them, studying them with an unreadable face. As he passed by Mari, he stopped as if he had come to think of something, and looked down at her, gradually coming to face her. Having subjected her to scrutiny for a while, he suddenly shot a glance at Kili who quickly averted his eyes and relaxed his fingers. Thranduil turned his attention back to her again, letting his eyes land on the beads woven into her hair.

"Imagine how much a simple gesture can tell you. A slow clenching of fists can tell a long story," he said calmly. His gaze went to her face. "Of course, I know a thing or two about Dwarves and their customs too."

Mari didn't react to his attempts of confirmation from her. She simply watched his theatrics, feeling surprisingly detached, waiting for something substantial to which she could respond. The king shrugged elegantly, turned his back on her, and calmly moved onwards. Then he stopped and whirled around in a most becoming way to show off the richness of the fabrics in his robes, facing them all.

"I formally welcome you to the Woodland Realm." He glanced at Legolas before he continued. "I have been expecting you." His attention came back to the group and he slowly inclined his head.

Fili drew a deep breath, obviously pushing down his displeasure. "Thank you," he replied, leaving out any titles the same way as Thranduil had, and dipped his head equally little. The others followed suit. For a fleeting moment Mari thought she caught a hint of amusement in the king's eyes, but it was so short she wondered if she had imagined it.

"You must be weary after your journey. Tauriel," he glanced at his captain who looked startled, "why don't you continue to see to the comforts of our guests? I think it would be wise to not make any grand gestures at this point considering their errand, and you are already acquainted." His eyes swept again over the Dwarves and Mari. "Besides, I suspect you have something to speak with the captain about. I'll leave it to you to enlighten her."

Tauriel bowed her head. "Yes, your majesty," she managed. The dry amusement was back in his eyes again for a moment. "Legolas, I assign you to undertake the captain's duties for the time being," he continued before he aimed his attention back to the group in front of him. He simply dipped his chin slightly, turned and strode off with his long frock perfectly swirling behind him. After a few startled seconds, Legolas followed his father, leaving them glancing at each other, aside from Tauriel who, unmoving and pale, stared after the king and the prince.

Thranduil was like a Siamese cat in all his pasty, arrogant and long-limbed elegance, Mari thought as she watched the king leave. She chewed at her lower lip so as to not smirk at the images her mind produced of a decidedly more cat-like Elven king.

"Tauriel," Kili said sincerely, catching the captain's attention. As she stared down at him he continued, "We have not brought up the reason why we're here because common courtesy states that it's Lord Thranduil's right to be the first to speak to you about any news concerning your duties." He took a deep breath, pressing his lips into a thin line. "As it turns out, no such decorum was needed." Momentarily he glanced at Fili who nodded at him. He turned back to the captain.

"We have come to meet you, Tauriel."

Her lips parted slightly as her eyes became almost unnaturally large. "Me?" she asked with a faint voice.

Kili smiled warmly at her. "Yes. We have much to discuss and a long story to tell."

She made a sharp intake of air and her eyes darted away from him and flickered over them almost pleadingly. Mari pushed between Fili and Kili and put her hand on Tauriel's arm. "Perhaps we should start in the practical end of things?" she asked with a small reassuring smile.

Looking relieved Tauriel smiled back at her. "Of course. Please. This way." She inclined her head and turned, leading the way through the halls again, quickly regaining her composure.

"So what's first?" Kili asked cheerfully, which somehow felt like a taunt in the vast imposing and tranquil cavern they were moving through.

"You wouldn't be opposed to a bath, would you?" She glanced over her shoulder with a smirk.

"Certainly not!" Gisla exclaimed and put a sharp elbow in Kili's side, as his teeth glinted in a grin. He winced and bit down on a grunt, sending a scowl toward Gisla who, undeterred, glared back. With a smirk Tauriel continued walking.

. . .

Kili nodded at Mari, gripped her waist and hoisted her up to the lowest branch. She climbed onto it fairly quickly and began making her way upwards as Kili followed her with notable agility.

"I used to climb trees a lot as a child," he explained as they made their way up into the crown of the tree.

"Well, I'm not a completely new to tree climbing, but. . . " she paused and eyed the branches above for a good path, "it wasn't my favourite pastime back home."

Kili stopped on the other side of the trunk and pointed out a potential path for her and continued climbing. With a sigh Mari followed.

"I miss the Lothlorien stairs now," she grumbled.

A small platform appeared onto which she climbed and as she stood, she caught her breath at the sight. Among the crowns just below the highest branches, completely invisible from the ground, was what looked like a village of simple but elegant tree houses, with architecture unlike anything she had seen. They were shaped like cocoons and spires with platforms on top, wrapping the tree trunks, and they were connected with suspended walkways.

"And I thought Lorien was a sight to behold," Kili said with awe in his voice.

Tauriel, who was crossing one walkway, stopped and turned towards them with a smile. "Welcome to Caras Yrn," she said and her eyes slid to Kili momentarily.

"Thank you," Mari said. "I always wondered how Silvan Elves lived, but this is beyond what I could have imagined." Her eyes began wandering again.

"And yet, you've been to Lorien?" the captain asked with a hint of amusement in her voice.

"It's quite different." Mari looked back at Tauriel who had grown serious again. She nodded.

"It certainly is. Come," she urged and continued onwards, and they all followed her.

o.o.o

It was late when they were shown to their quarters. In Mari's opinion it had been a good evening and she felt a sense of accomplishment as well as a certainty that whatever would come their way, the foundation of a true friendship between them and the Elven captain had solidified. Fili could still be stiff with her, but even he had thawed and had spoken animatedly about their findings in the south, and his dreams of a better future for everyone. That had moved Tauriel more than anything else and she had admitted she longed for change and hoped it would finally come.

"You look happy," Kili commented as they closed the door behind them.

She nodded and smiled at him. "I never doubted Tauriel, but. . . " she threw herself on the bed, "Fili really made a difference. Who knew he could be so eloquent?"

Kili dropped down on the bed too, toeing off his boots. They landed on the floor with a thumping sound and he started pulling at the fastenings not yet undone on the Elven tunic lent to him. With a sigh he quickly pulled it off and sat for a moment staring at it as he held it in his hand.

"It wouldn't be so bad if it actually fit me," he mumbled and dropped it next to him on the covers. "I almost didn't dare to move this evening." He continued unbuttoning the shirt and carefully shed that too. "Either you fall flat on your face, or the seams rip." He glanced at her. "And I'm considered tall and thin. Imagine Dori trying to fit into something like this." He held the shirt between them.

Mari snorted and Kili joined in with a chuckle, then allowed himself to fall backwards on the mattress. "You must have a dream, Mari. You can't just be a keeper." He closed his eyes.

"He has never really talked much about the future. Thorin is pretty focussed on taking back what you lost, but Fili has mostly been all about loyalty thus far." She turned her head and studied Kili. As if he felt her eyes on him, he opened his and met her gaze.

"It's loyalty that makes him dream the way he does. Loyalty to Uncle, joining him to take back the mountain, our real home. It's loyalty to his family that he's doing what he can to ensure we survive. . . and loyalty to you and me, as he's hoping to give us a future by doing all of this. He has been loathing Ered Luin for as long as I can remember, but for years he had no aim, nothing that could give him an alternative, a vision." Kili smiled. "We finally did. You, Gisla, and I. And when he met Eoric in the south he realised that it's much more than about those he loves. What he wants affects so many more. Once you have seen the injustice, you can't unsee it."

"Well, if anyone from the outside would support him, Tauriel is the one," Mari sighed.

"You have no reservations about her at all?" he asked.

"Absolutely none," she replied with a smile.

"Neither do I." His eyes wandered to the ceiling and he pensively studied it. "I think I could trust her with my life. How odd. We've only known each other a week."

Mari stared at him and forced herself to continue to breathe as normally as she was able. Odd was the least one could call it. She burned to tell him the truth but as it involved his death, she instinctively felt she had to keep it to herself. He turned back to her and his brow knitted.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," he said with concern.

She forced a smile onto her face and shook her head, pushing herself up. "It's nothing."

He sat up too and reached out, catching the hand closest to him. "It's not the same. Not as with you."

She heard the apprehension in his voice and she faced him, shaking her head again. "No, it's not that. Not that I was very jealous before, but you have managed to hammer it into my head by now, what this One business means." Finally she was able to muster a real smile.

He gave her a long look.

"I don't think it's a good time to talk about. . . this. Not now," she said evasively, and tore her eyes away from him.

"Then when?" he pressed.

"When it can't be avoided any more," she whispered.

He drew a deep breath and nodded.

"It can't happen the way I knew it as I came here. That much I can tell you. Too much has changed."

"That's. . . reassuring. I suppose," he said hesitantly.

She faced him again and pulled her mouth into a joyless smile. "I suppose it is."

"If things already are altered that much, anything can happen."

He withdrew his hand from hers and put it behind her neck and pulled her towards him, leaning his forehead against hers. The simple gesture made her feel a lot better, as if a ray of sunshine broke through a thick cloud cover.

Yes, she admitted to herself, it was reassuring. They still had a long way to go, but another future was possible, he was right about that.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lid on the powder keg comes off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not dead. Promise. Thanks for reading!

_Caras Yrn, the Woodland Realm, April 2941 TA_

After two months of travelling everything needed to be cleaned, washed, and laundered, and what was broken, worn, and torn had to be mended or replaced. Tauriel was never far away, always prepared to help them, and she often accompanied them for meals as well as proposing minor excursions as breaks.

Mari hung back in Tauriel's company, letting the others talk to her. Partly it was because of the long history of hostility between Dwarves and Elves, and Mari was cautious to not become an intermediary between them, but also because she couldn't quite tamp down her curiosity as she watched Kili and Tauriel. Tauriel had an interest in the outside world, always eager to listen to the stories they could tell, and long discussions often ensued.

It was interesting, enlightening, and sometimes heart-wrenching to exchange tales, and they found Tauriel surprisingly honest about things that were difficult to talk about. It gave hope about better relations between Elves and Dwarves.

There was one however who wasn't happy. Fili had not been happy in a long time, and Mari was beginning to become quite concerned. Gisla shared that concern.

Their relationship had suffered and was continuing to do so since Edoras. Gisla had been holding back on her own grievances, not talking about their struggle, but finally she admitted there were issues one afternoon when she and Mari went to the hot springs close to the Elven settlement, just the two of them.

"I feel as if there's a wall between us. He's physically present – he's my One and that can't be broken – but he's deeply troubled. I think I know what's bothering him, but he won't talk about it. He'd rather cut his arm off than admit it, but he's afraid," Gisla sighed and sniffed at the hot water they were about to get into. It had a peculiar smell which wasn't all that enjoyable, but it wasn't horrible either. Gisla stepped into the pool and stood for a few seconds just watching her feet disappear in the milky water.

"Afraid? Of what?" Mari asked in disbelief. She hurried to get into the water as well, but she didn't stop to look at it. The air was chilly and the water was warm and inviting. Gisla smirked at her haste.

"Well, I'm not quite like you," Mari shrugged unapologetically.

Gisla let herself sink into the water too, finding a good spot to sit next to her friend. "He thinks he's failing and he's afraid what his failures will lead to."

Mari nodded. "I have been wondering about that actually. He seems to take everything to heart."

"Kili wasn't doing too well after Edoras and the journey to Lothlorien, but you didn't allow it to take hold and fester." Gisla shot Mari a sly glance. "I think Kili can thank you for that, with your odd Mannish ways."

"My odd Mannish ways, eh?" Mari snorted. "I mostly feel inadequate because we don't have your security. It has gradually become better. Lothlorien apparently did us a lot of good. Don't know why, but he seems to. . . understand more. Read me better, you know? It's a bit uncanny sometimes, but on the whole it's good."

Gisla sighed and scooped up some clay from the bottom and played around with it just above the surface. "That's another thing. For all Fili's championing of change and acceptance of differences among us, he's rather traditional himself. He has a mission, but it's out of fear of losing those he loves, not because it's so important to himself. I'm not saying he doesn't care about the injustice – he does and he doesn't like it – but at the same time. . . he is uncomfortable with things that challenge the standard."

"It's fine for someone to be different who's supposed to be different, like you. You're not a Dwarf and you will never be, and there's nothing wrong with that. But Kili is a Dwarf. It's just that he has. . . drifted away. Slowly. But lately it has become more obvious. He was always slightly different. Made different choices. His temperament is different. He's simply not like Fili. Fili could never have chosen someone like you for instance. It simply doesn't appeal to him. That Kili did and then was so at ease with the Elves in Lorien irked Fili, but Tauriel. . . That's. . . "

"Why would Tauriel be worse?"

Gisla's hands sank down in the water again and she stared at a spot across the pool. "Because he isn't sure about Kili's attachment to you. It could be another strange thing about him, that he can't form that permanent attachment."

Mari stared at Gisla. "You have to be joking," she eventually managed.

With a slight shake to her head, Gisla replied, "I'm not."

"But it's I who can't do that," Mari paused. "No, that is ridiculous. That's not-" Again she cut herself off. "I _know_ that's groundless," she insisted.

Gisla nodded, again bringing up some clay to toy around with. "I have noticed that you watch Kili and Tauriel though. Keenly. There's something to it, isn't there?" Her brow rose slightly and she darted a glance at her friend.

Mari nodded. "I have been wondering about this, what would happen once they met." She drew a deep breath. "You could say that I have come between them."

Gisla's eyes widened and she turned to face Mari, dropping hands and clay back into the water. "You mean. . . "

Again Mari nodded. "It was short and very tragic. Not one-sided. Both were enamoured."

They were silent for a minute. Mari studied the surroundings through the vapours while Gisla, looking a bit dazed, stared at nothing, trying to wrap her head around these news. "Does Kili know?"

"No. No one knows about this, aside from you now."

"Considering it didn't end well, I suppose I can understand that." Gisla drew a deep breath. "Hammer and tongs."

Mari shot Gisla a small smile at the oath. "Indeed." She angled her head backwards and looked up at the clear blue sky. "But what I don't understand is what the connection between fear of the unconventional and different, and the Elves in general, and Tauriel in particular, have to do with each other."

"Think about it. Kili, who has had his quirks all along, was clearly affected by our stay in Lothlorien, even I could see that. And now we're here, and again Kili seems affected, and also forming a very close attachment to a young competent Elf, and very fast at that. It's almost like it's. . . spiralling out of control. There have always been odd things about Kili, even physical issues. I suppose you know about them better than I do." Gisla raised her eyebrows questioningly and Mari nodded.

"He wakes up sometimes and is in pain. It's been coming on more frequently lately. I had never seen it before we came to Lorien, but. . . Now it happens from time to time. Not while we've been on the road thankfully." Mari shrugged. "I haven't managed to convince him to have someone look at him, but it doesn't seem life threatening so. . . "

Gisla nodded. "Imagine Fili now. What if there's something 'wrong' with his little brother?" She paused and met Mari's eyes. "Sometimes children are born with impairments and other oddities and. . . well. . . He doesn't seem to be quite as Dwarven as he ideally should be, and it's becoming more and more apparent. Fili can't quite handle that."

Mari sat staring at Gisla with her mouth slightly ajar. "I think I want to hit Fili. With something very hard. Over the head."

Gisla snorted mirthlessly.

"No but really. Kili is who he is, Dwarven standards be damned." Mari's brow was knitted in anger.

Slowly Gisla leaned forward and cradled Mari's face and leaned their foreheads together. "It warms my heart to hear this."

Mari closed her eyes and gave a slight shake of her head. "I'm not looking for any praise."

"No, you simply love and care. It's your way." Gisla pulled back and let her hands drop down into the water and Mari opened her eyes.

"I'm not going to defend Fili, but keep in mind what he grew up with," Gisla continued. "Who he grew up with. Remember the Dwarven ideals that have been elevated to near-religion, and the hatred of Elves. They had Dis countering much of that, but she was just one person. And why she isn't like all the others, I can't say. My mam says that though she loves her brother dearly, she's also the one with whom he has quarrelled over these matters the most. That could be a reason why she stayed away from Ered Luin too."

Above their heads a flock of geese made noises, drawing the attention of both women for a while.

"I wonder where they go," Mari said as they slowly disappeared to the north.

"Far beyond the Grey Mountains, close to the ice in the north. I've heard there are people up there. Men. Dressed in skins and furs, eating seal and fish. Some are herding creatures that look a lot like deer." Gisla shook her head. "Don't know if it's true."

Mari nodded with a smile. "More or less."

Gisla tore her eyes from the sky. "Fili is not just uncomfortable because of having been instilled with those views, but he's afraid that Kili will suffer for them too. What if people decide that not only are you too much to stomach, but _Kili_ is too? That he's not measuring up. The less like the ideal Longbeard Dwarf Kili becomes, the greater is the risk of losing him. _That_ is at the heart of all of this. He's not just going to fight others for the sake of his brother and countless other people, but himself too, and he knows what will happen if he fails. If he can't change things around, he'll lose both of you."

"So he's deeply conflicted and won't talk about it. Not even with you," Mari surmised.

Gisla nodded. "He doesn't know how to. Remember when I came to the Shire? He's not naturally social and talkative, and the more personal it becomes, the harder it is for him to speak. This is as personal as it gets."

"So how do we fix this then?" Mari asked. "I mean, between Fili and you and Kili."

Gisla looked grim. "Fili is very good at locking things in and pushing on. That lock needs to be broken but I'm at loss at how to do that."

"Kili probably holds the key," Mari smiled.

A snort escaped Gisla and then she sighed. "Most likely."

o.o.o

As Mari and Gisla joined Fili, Kili, Ori, and Tauriel for supper they quietly exchanged glances at the unpleasant atmosphere. Fili was sullen, and that was putting it mildly, while Ori was trying to act like he was part of the furniture, clearly feeling uncomfortable. Tauriel was distant and Mari thought she looked like she was wearing some invisible armour. Kili was annoyed, but tried to defuse the situation, with absolutely no success whatsoever. The situation was not helped by Mari and Gisla joining them.

The conversation was stilted and Fili was showing a very poor attitude, in particular towards Tauriel. Mari's attempts at distracting Fili were not fruitful and after a while, she found she had to bite her tongue to not lash out. At a loss as to what to do, she went silent instead, prepared to suffer through the meal and leave the table at the first opportunity.

Then Kili snapped. Whipping his head around he stared hard at Fili. "What is wrong with you?" he hissed. "You're not speaking with me, and if it had been an Orc sitting here instead of Tauriel, you would have acted more civil."

Fili glowered at Kili, who glared back, quite clearly having had enough. Mari recognised the changes, the blackness of the eyes, the dull fire at the bottom of them, how he seemed to lose colour in his face and the change in posture. This was rage.

The air seemed to thicken and Mari darted another look at Gisla, who seemed alert but not distressed. Ori seemed to react in a similar manner, watchful, but not upset. Tauriel on the other hand, was very uncomfortable. Though Silvan Elves might not have quite the capabilities the High Elves had, Mari suspected Tauriel had enough to understand what was going on inside the two brothers.

"It's unbecoming of you to act with such familiarity with her," Fili snarled and turned his glower at Tauriel. Mari winced and Fili turned his attention to her. "I know you see it too. You are watching them, perhaps more closely than anyone, so you _know_."

He whipped his head back to confront Kili again. "There are things that we have all accepted because you are my brother, but there are limits. You gave Mari a promise. You need to honour that. If this is yet another example of. . . " Fili swallowed, "some defect, you're still a Dwarf and as such there are certain things you simply cannot do."

Mari slowly sank back against the chair as she watched the scene in front of her. She was grateful that she'd had the conversation she'd had with Gisla prior to this, even if she had no idea what to do or say. It didn't come as a complete surprise at least, though it broke her heart to see it.

"I have not broken any promises, nor will I," Kili shot back. "Just because I'm being friendly you think that I'm. . . deficient?" he almost shouted, and there was a distinct note of pain in his voice. He sought Mari's eyes. "You know this is groundless!"

Fili also looked at Mari. "If that's so, why are you watching them so closely?"

Mari's mouth went dry and she licked her lips while her eyes darted between the two brothers.

"Go on! There is something. You can't hide such things, Mari, and your concern is too obvious to ignore." Fili's words were biting.

"Yes!" Mari finally shouted back. "I do watch them, but not quite for the reason you think, Fili. I have no doubts in Kili. None. But I also know what could have been, had I not ended up here in Middle Earth. You want the truth? They were supposed to fall in love. Instant attraction. One look and that was it. But I ruined all that by dying, coming here and catching Kili's interest instead. I always wondered what would happen if they met and now I know. It seems that no matter what, they will become close. They simply get along, and. . . I can't help finding that interesting."

Kili's rage slowly evaporated, replaced by shock. He darted a look at Tauriel brimming with conflicting emotions, a look which she avoided meeting. She looked equally dumbfounded, staring at Mari with wide eyes.

"Tauriel has done nothing to you, Fili," Mari continued somewhat calmer. "And neither has Kili. He's just being himself."

Fili's face was completely blank.

"You called me. . . " Kili turned towards Fili as his voice cracked.

"We both know something's wrong with you," Fili growled between his teeth. "You never stop growing, you're having those _episodes_ , and you were never comfortable about being a Longbeard." He paused and finally looked at Kili. "You don't even look like a proper Dwarf," he muttered.

Kili swallowed hard. The table was eerily silent and they all stared at Fili with various degrees of shock on their faces. With a loud noise Kili's chair toppled backwards as he shot out of his seat, and then he stomped away from the table.

"Well done, Fili." Gisla's voice was harsh as a rusty hinge when she spoke. Fili managed to look both chastised and defiant at the same time. Sluggishly Tauriel began to rise from her seat.

"Tauriel, please. . . " Mari pleaded.

The Elven captain met her eyes. "I will need some time to. . . digest this." She sighed and aimed her eyes at Fili. "Had you only asked, I could have answered. I have known Kili's heart all along." She hesitated and averted her eyes, closing her mouth.

Their attention was caught by a ragged sigh from Fili, who now was the picture of misery. "I apologise," he rasped, staring at the table in front of him.

Tauriel inclined her head. "Thank you." Fili pulled his head up and their eyes locked. "I know your heart too," Tauriel added quietly. With a nod she slowly slipped away as well.

Mari relaxed a little and shot Gisla a look. "I think the lock is broken," she murmured.

"I think there are more things that are broken now," Gisla retorted surely and sighed. Both women glanced at Ori who shook his head at them.

"I cannot help," he said gently. "Though I think you should find Kili, Mari."

Gisla nodded in agreement and smiled encouragingly at Mari.

Getting on her feet she said, "It was my plan anyway. See you later then." Squaring her shoulders she set out to find Kili.

o.o.o

She stuck her head over the edge of the platform that had become Kili's favourite place to sit the past days, and spotted him, lying on his back as he was watching the intensely starry night. She hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say.

"I know you are there, Mari," he said quietly, keeping his eyes firmly locked at the sky above.

She pushed herself upwards and entered the platform. Slowly she made her way over to him and gazed down at him.

"Tauriel, eh?" he asked, still not looking at her.

Slowly she sank down next to him. "Yes," she replied simply.

"How can you keep such things to yourself?" His brow furrowed.

"I'm not keeping my mouth shut nearly as much as I should, you know," she reminded him. "And my actions have an impact on this world. Just how much remains to be seen. For Tauriel personally it means a lot. My existence will most likely save her life, but then again, she may find death in some other way, linked to you or not."

This had Kili wincing and he pressed his eyes shut. "Is the connection that strong?"

"Seems like it. I saw her in Galadriel's mirror even, so I guessed you would get along, even as friends. Fascinating, isn't it?" She smiled down at him as he opened his eyes and finally met hers.

"Fascinating?" he squeaked.

"Yes," she nodded. "I'm not particularly jealous, and I have understood that once you love it's not a choice for you anymore. . . " She shrugged. "In a way I feel sorry for her, but on the other hand, as I said, she may escape death because of me. That's a good thing."

Kili scowled at her. "Which means you could die instead of her."

"No, that's not how I would end my days here. I don't know this for certain because there were no answers given to what happened to her back home, but I'm convinced she faded and died. As I'm not an Elf, that won't happen to me." She offered him a small smile of reassurance.

Her eyes sought the canopy surrounding them, alight with dots of light as if the starry sky continued from the firmament above down into the crowns of the massive trees in which the peculiar Silvan houses were built. It looked and felt completely different, and yet it was beyond clear that this was an Eldar hamlet. If it hadn't been for their king, she would have felt much more at home and at ease here, compared to Lothlorien. Lorien was amazing, stunningly beautiful, but she had to admit that she had felt. . . like a tourist.

"I don't even know how to look at her now," Kili said quietly, breaking the silence.

"Like you have until now?" Mari suggested.

A half-snort, half-laugh escaped him and he raised his hands to rub his face.

"There's something about the two of you forming a bond no matter the circumstances that's important," she mused. "Well, the important thing is that she doesn't put an arrow in Thorin really, but I think you may play a vital part in keeping her from doing that."

He snorted loudly. "You don't believe in fate," he reminded her and let his hand come to rest on his chest.

A brief smile passed over her features. "No, but I do believe in personal chemistry. And you can't deny that it's a good thing to form a close friendship with the Elven captain of Mirkwood. You'll be neighbours, remember that."

Kili reached out and caught her hand, lacing their fingers. "You're not including yourself," he said quietly.

"I don't know if I will be allowed to include myself."

"Then I'm not included either."

"Fili needs you."

Kili hesitated and closed his eyes and she could almost feel his pain.

"It was. . . a jackass moment. He will need to sort that out with you, because I know he needs you," she said quietly.

"If I'm forced to, you know what I will choose. My brother can do without me, but I cannot do without you."

"Yes, you can."

"Not indefinitely."

"I could live in Dale." As Kili drew a deep breath to start protesting, Mari quickly bent down and gave him a quick kiss. "It would not be exactly what either of us wants, but it would be a solution. I have every right to live among what really is my own kind, and you with yours, and no one could complain about visits."

"Yes they could! We'd be back to what we had in the Shire! All the gossip, the potential slander. . . "

Mari tilted her head. "It wasn't that bad," she protested.

"No, because they were Hobbits. Men and Dwarves are not so forgiving," he insisted.

"But Dwarves don't care about the same propriety as Hobbits."

Kili sighed. "In any normal case, no. But I'm second in line to the throne. That. . . changes things."

"Exactly what should I expect from the visit in the Iron Hills?" She had never expected it to be a straightforward visit, but with time it had become a looming threat. Or it felt like one anyway.

He gave a pause, his mouth dropping slightly open. A moment later his eyes darted away from her and his mouth snapped shut.

"That positive, eh?" she sighed.

"It's not going to be simple and easy for any of us. Dain is a cousin, and Uncle could have chosen him as his heir instead but he didn't."

She shrugged. "Well, you _are_ more closely related to him."

"But we're his sister's sons. If Frerin had been our parent it would have been nothing to discuss, but. . . "

"It's oddly conservative," she pointed out.

Kili's eyes went back to her and he nodded. "Dain has not given up on any dynastic claims, simply because Uncle has named us his heirs. He can't just get rid of us, so we won't be fearing for our own lives, but it's not quite the same with you or Gisla. And Gisla is still safer than you, since she's actually married to Fili and therefore is family."

"But I couldn't be used for blackmail for anyone but you, since I'm not. . . well, important." She didn't like to disparage herself, but it was true. She was a nobody in this situation.

He winced and his grip on her hand became vice-like. "Don't underestimate our loyalty."

She swallowed hard as she remembered the encounter with the trolls, which was yet to come for the company now on their journey to the east. They had not hesitated to come to Bilbo's rescue and had given up to save his life. "You can't. . . not for my sake."

"It may not come to much though. Dain may be chieftain in a situation that is similar to the one in Ered Luin for Thorin, but there is one important difference. The Ironfists the Longbeards are residing alongside are nothing like the Broadbeams." Kili flashed a brief wolfish grin.

"They have been the only ones to truly threaten my clan's dominance, and it was close once. They seized Gundabad, but couldn't hold it."

"I fail to see how that's of any use to us, considering the fact that you are _Thorin's_ heirs. _Longbeards_."

"It's of use to us because it means Dain's hands are tied in a way that Uncle's aren't. Even if the Ironfists aren't exactly allies, they will act in a way that neutralises Dain."

"And you."

"But we have some fat bait. Reclaiming Erebor would mean that many a Longbeard would return home. . . " Kili's voice tapered off and his eyes sparkled with mischief.

"And shift the power in their favour." Mari nodded. "Surely Dain will see this too?"

He nodded and sighed. "Yes, and that's why it's not without its dangers. We must be careful."

Mari shuddered. "Politics," she grumbled.

Kili laughed weakly and rolled onto his side, tugging his hand free, wrapping his arms around her waist, and putting his head in her lap. She smiled affectionately down at him and carded her fingers through his hair, which had him sighing contently. For a long while they stayed like that, and she undid the simple clip he had at the back of his head to make it easier for her to run her fingers through his hair. He tightened his grip on her and a genuine smile curved his lips.

"I have decided I'll braid my hair," he mumbled.

Mari's hands stopped and she stared at him. "Come again?"

"I have already stopped cutting my hair, and I put off shaving once we came here," he continued.

"I was wondering about that actually." She paused a beat. "Don't take Fili's words to heart."

"He is right though. There are some things I do that are un-Dwarven, and I don't quite have that indisputable _solidness_. It's going to influence matters once Erebor is ours again. It's all about politics," he murmured.

"So you've suddenly decided to play the part of a proper heir?"

"Not suddenly. I've given it much thought."

She ran her fingers through his long bangs. "What can I expect then? A beard long enough to tuck into your belt?"

His shoulders shook as he laughed which made her smile too. "To be honest I don't know. I clearly won't be able to grow a beard like Balin's until we reach the Iron Hills, so I think I rather keep it short. But my hair. . . I haven't got the slightest idea. I don't have the same curls as Fili and Uncle have. . . " He sighed. "While I of course could do any kind of braids you can think of, I'd rather not spend half the morning getting ready, if you know what I mean."

Mari pursed her lips to keep a grin from forming. For a Dwarf, Kili had little interest in decorating himself, and had he not been a Durin heir he probably wouldn't have bothered about fancy clothes, colours, nor accessories outside the bare necessities.

"So nothing like Dori's then," she concluded.

Kili snorted loudly. "I'd look like an idiot."

Her fingers trailed the hairline by his temple, making him shudder slightly.

"Stop that," he grumbled.

Her eyebrows arched. "Why?"

"You know perfectly well why. We might damage the delicate Elven sensibilities if you continue like that," he said huskily.

She snickered and deliberately continued to trace his hairline, the outline of his ears and the skin down his neck. With a low growl he hoisted himself up on his arms and resolutely pushed her backwards until her back hit the wood the platform was made of. She continued to chuckle as he pinned her down, with a grin on his face.

"I'm fairly certain their senses can take it," she said lightly, with a challenging glint in her eyes.

"I'm beginning to think they'll have to." His grin faltered and he gazed down at her. Slowly he let her hands go and they found their way back into his hair, and he briefly closed his eyes. As he opened them again, he let himself sink down, kissing her hungrily.

"One leaves you two to your own devices for five minutes, and look what happens."Gisla's voice made them both start and Kili quickly pulled back, turning towards his sister-in-law with wide eyes, looking very much like a Dwarfling caught red handed while stealing cookies. Gisla grinned widely, looking rather pleased, until she suddenly yelped and looked down.

"Get on with the climbing!" Fili groused unseen from below.

Gisla shot him a glare but then quickly continued up the steps to the platform. A second later Fili's uncertain face became visible, but at the sight of Mari and Kili a small smile lit his face.

"Glad to see you two are still friendly toward one another," he continued as he entered the platform too.

That prompted Kili to roll away from Mari and sit up, and Mari followed his example, though not with the same haste. She scooted up next to him and nudged his shoulder.

"What now?" she asked, frowning at his uncharacteristic behaviour. Though he wasn't overly demonstrative, he wasn't a prude either and he hadn't reacted like this before.

"I don't need to prove anything to him," Kili murmured, fixing Fili a glower.

Mari followed his line of sight and saw the discomfort and regret in Fili's face. "Then don't mind what he said," she said and turned back to Kili. "Our business is ours, after all."

Kili averted his eyes and stared at the floor. "It's obviously not."

Fili seated himself at a safe distance on the platform and Gisla joined him, having sobered very quickly.

"I'm sorry Kili. We didn't mean to interrupt anything," she said apologetically.

Kili glared daggers at his older brother who unhappily faced his brother's displeasure.

"Well, you're here. What do you want?" Kili asked curtly, shifting slightly where he sat, tugging at his trousers. None of this escaped Fili's notice. Ducking his head, he quickly tried to quell the smirk on his lips.

"Those trousers a smidge tight?" he asked, looking back up, schooling his face.

"Fee," Gisla admonished, and Fili sighed and nodded.

"I'm not in a mood to talk to you at the moment." Kili was quiet and sincere, and his eyes were aimed at the pretty cluster of twinkling lights in a nearby tree.

"I'm sorry," Fili said, sounding genuinely regretful.

Kili continued to stare at the lights, not moving a muscle in his face. Never before had Mari seen Kili treat Fili like this, and she glanced at Gisla whose eyebrows rose slightly in response.

Fili looked very uncomfortable and fidgeted slightly. "I shouldn't have said what I said. I acted poorly towards you, Tauriel and Mari. I can explain, but it doesn't change the fact that I wronged you." He drew a deep breath at his brother's extended silence and continued. "I have apologised to Tauriel, and I hope you can forgive me, both of you." His eyes shifted to Mari.

"Thank you, Fili," she said and threw a look at Kili. "I think you do need to explain though." Fili nodded and then aimed his attention at his brother, who sat very still.

"I know you so well," Kili began thoughtfully. "It's not too difficult for me to guess what brought this on." He sighed and dropped his eyes to the hands resting in his lap. "It feels like I have lost my patience. I have proven myself many times over, yet the question remains, will it be enough? In the end, will my efforts be for naught?"

Fili paled as Kili spoke but kept regarding his brother. Kili raised his gaze and locked eyes with him.

"You know me Fee."

"Yes, I know you. But sometimes I feel like I can't follow you where you're going." A note of anguish crept into Fili's voice.

Kili threw out his hands and leaned forward. "But you can! There is nothing stopping you!"

"I am Thorin's heir. There are some things I cannot do, and you know it."

"I'm not asking you to leave or give anything up. What I'm asking is that you keep an open mind. I thought you did." Kili leaned his elbows on his knees and slumped forward, shaking his head. "Just accept me."

Fili looked irked and torn. "What if you leave? I know you will if. . . " he swallowed and his eyes flickered to Mari.

"And yet you accuse me of breaking my promise."

"Tauriel, Mari – does it matter?" He waved dismissively at Kili and shook his head angrily. "Yes, yes, it _is_ important, but no matter who you choose in your life, it seems it's a choice that may force you to go on without us. Leave."

"You called me deficient." Kili's voice cracked.

Fili hung his head. "Please Kili, forgive me. I love you, but I fear your future. I fear what people will say and do. 'Deficient' is a word you know has been used about you. It's not what I think."

Kili didn't look appeased as he stared at his brother.

This wasn't a conversation that cleared the air – that much Mari could tell as she watched it unfold – but it was nevertheless an important one. The two brothers would come back to it, of that she had no doubt. As she sat contemplating what this would come to, Kili took a firm grip on her hand and smoothly rose to his feet. She had to scramble to get on her feet too as he held her hand in such a way that she had to follow him.

"I want time alone with Mari," he announced. "I don't know how much time we'll need, but leave us be until we're ready to see you again." With a deep sigh he continued, "Right now I feel it may take a while."

He glanced at Mari and she simply gave him a nod. She could hardly do anything else in the situation they were in. She didn't want to do anything else either.

With determination he set off towards the steps, towing her along, keeping a firm grip on her hand. Not a word was uttered on their way to the little house they had occupied since they had arrived. Mari wondered at his unusual silence and behaviour, but she hoped he'd be more communicative later on. He all but flung the door open and pulled her inside, closed it immediately and in the next moment she had her back against the door with him clinging to her, with his nose buried in her hair, breathing deeply.

Slowly she wrapped her arms around him and gently stroked his back. She closed her eyes and relaxed, pushing the world outside away from her, allowing herself to simply stay in the moment.

It was meditative, and she lost track of time. As far as she was concerned they could have been standing there for five minutes or thirty, once he slowly straightened his back and put a tiny sliver of air between them. He gave her a small smile as she opened her eyes, and raised his right hand, letting his fingers feather over her cheek before he carefully pushed them into her hair, grazing her ear in the process.

The soothing calm atmosphere quickly dissipated, and the air became distinctly more charged. Mari closed the gap between them and put her lips over his and his response was immediate and nearly pushed the air out of her lungs, as her back made contact with the door once more.

She gasped a laugh when he broke the kiss as he quickly discarded his coat and harsh Khuzdul curses streamed over his lips as he clumsily tore at his vambraces. Batting away his fingers she nimbly relieved him of the wrist protection and went on to pull at the lacing keeping his shirt closed. He watched her progress as he got rid of first his belt and then hers, and the second she had loosened the ribbon enough, he disposed of the shirt.

They stared at each other for a frozen moment, which was broken when she couldn't hold back her grin. Leisurely he closed the distance between them and claimed her lips again.

Not a word was uttered by either of them, not even as they ended up on the floor in a collapsed heap of tangled limbs, coming down from the throes of passion. When she shivered slightly in the cool air, he pushed himself up from the floor, gathered her in his arms and carried her off to the bed, wrapping the quilt around them both as she snaked her arm and leg around him.

With a sigh he tangled his fingers in her hair and kissed the crown of her head. Mari closed her eyes and let herself slowly grow heavy, and eventually she slipped into sleep. Kili listened to her breathing as she drifted off to sleep. For a good long while he lay flat on his back, staring at the dark ceiling while he ran his fingers through her hair. Finally his eyes closed and he drifted off too.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reconciliation and revelations.

_Caras Yrn, the Woodland Realm, April 2941 TA_

The patter of rain was the first thing Kili heard when he resurfaced from sleep. Leisurely he stretched and fumbled around for Mari, only to find cold sheets. His eyes flew open and he pushed himself up with a start, searching the room with wide eyes. At the far end, by a window, she sat with her arms around her legs, leaning against the curved wall while watching the rain outside. She was wearing his shirt, which made him smile. The garment was quite over-sized on her and the knee-length meant that she could hide completely in it the way she sat.

Slowly she turned her head to look at him as she picked up the sound of his movement.

"Good morning sleepy head," she greeted him softly.

He cleared his throat and returned the morning greeting. "Been awake long?" he asked casually.

She slipped out of her position and crossed the floor to the bed and crawled up in it. Reaching out he pulled her close with a content sigh.

"Fairly long." She paused and pulled back so she could sit. "Hours actually."

His face fell. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"Why should I? You obviously needed to sleep and we're in a safe place, something we won't see after we leave the Woodland Realm."

He waved aimlessly in the air with the hand closest to her. "I just thought. . . isn't it somewhat dull? "

Mari smiled. "Not so bad. I took the opportunity to reach an agreement with those who are quite worried about you." Kili's eyebrows shot up. "Fili, Gisla, and Ori will occupy themselves with other things and leave us to ourselves until we've had enough of being hermits. Tauriel has made the same promise. She has arranged for meals to be delivered here and for us to be left alone if we decide to go outside for a while."

For a moment he just stared at her and then he jerkingly turned his head away from her. "I was angry last night," he said quietly.

"Yes." Mari nodded and sighed as she saw misery spread and dig its claws into him. "I think you need the space. All of you. Come to terms with what just happened. And you shouldn't feel bad about wanting some distance, just doing what you want for a few days." She moved her hand and found his. " _I_ want that time too."

"And Fee?" he whispered.

"Miserable. He's very remorseful but he's holding back until you're ready to see him." Giving his hand a couple of mild tugs, she coerced him to glance at her. "It's going to be fine," she said confidently. A small smile managed to break through the gloom, and he pressed her hand in response.

"Now. Braids? I distinctly remember you bringing that up yesterday," she continued cheerily.

Fluidly he leaned forward and gripped the fabric of the greyish blue garment she wore. "You're wearing my shirt," he said evenly.

"It was practical. I needed to dress in something quickly and it was right by the door," she replied matter-of-factly.

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Is that so. Who were the visitors?"

"All of them. They brought something for us to eat – bread, cold cuts, cheese and a nifty little thing making tea-brewing easy. We got some herbal teas too-"

Kili held up his hand and nodded. "Fine, yes, I understand." His hand dropped to the mattress. "But my shirt?"

"I had to put something on. And I like it. It's soft. It's yours." She looked down at herself and snorted. "Don't take this the wrong way, but it reminds me of Viola's nightgowns. I could hide half a pantry under it."

"And what if I want it back?"

"Feel free to take it." A smirk curved her lips and she raised her chin challengingly.

For a few moments he pursed his lips. "You're not wearing anything under it, are you?"

With a shrug she replied, "I suppose you'll find out – if you reclaim this shirt."

Snorting, he shook his head and dropped himself forward, landing with his head in her lap. He twisted around so he ended up on his back and could look at her. The amusement melted away as he studied her.

"I'm afraid," he mumbled and reached up and caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers.

"Why?" she asked, slightly puzzled.

"Because it seems death is constantly lurking in the corner of my eye, threatening both of us." He retracted his hand and put it on his chest.

She opened her mouth and he could tell she was about to dismiss his fears as she always did, but her words died in her throat. Closing her mouth, she swallowed instead.

"We need to talk about what you knew when you came here and now seems like a good time."

"I have held back on many things for a reason," she said, a touch defensive. "First of all, I didn't know how to tell you about Tauriel. Not knowing meant you could meet without preconception. I could not foresee that Fili would react the way he did, and it may not have helped if he had known."

"I understand your caution, but I want to know, Mari. Finding out about Tauriel was awkward, yes, but it also explains a few things. I doubt it'll change anything between any of us in the long run. But there are other more important things that you're not speaking of and I know it's weighing on you. You have carried this burden on your own long enough."

Hesitantly she nodded. "I'll just make some tea and bring the tray first." She scooted away from him and slid off the bed. He rolled onto his belly, pushed himself up on all fours, and started to arrange the pillows to make reclining comfortable.

o.o.o

Mari's eyes opened into slits. Something had woken her up but she couldn't tell what it was. The room was brighter than it should be in the middle of the night, and for a moment she thought they might have forgotten to turn out the light on one of the lamps. But as she forced her eyelids to open more she realised this wasn't the case. Though the light came from some place nearby, it was too low.

The bed shifted under her and she searched for Kili with her eyes. Slowly she raised her head, spotting him. At the foot end of the bed he sat hunched over, tension clearly visible in his frame and with a subtle light emanating from him.

She stared at him, stunned by what she saw. He seemed to be suffering another episode of pain, but the light was new. Blinking a number of times to make certain it wasn't her eyes fooling her, she sat for another half a minute trying to take in what she saw. Light. Subtle, but still.

Her sceptical mind raced to find some rational explanation, without success. There was nothing that lit him up, no lamp, no moon, not even strange glowing insects, and her gut told her it wasn't an outside source either. All sorts of silly science fiction and fantasy scenes paraded through her mind, which she normally would snicker at, but now they only caused fear. Just pain could be explained and rationalised. Light? Something else entirely.

She came to life and started to move, sitting up. He seemed to be oblivious to her presence, and she gingerly crept over to him, drawing up close. Still no response. Carefully she put her hand on his back, which finally prompted a reaction. Drawing a deep breath he opened his eyes, though not fully.

"What's going on?" she asked hesitantly.

A flicker of a smile momentarily rounded his cheeks. "Nothing unusual these days it seems," he breathed and closed his eyes.

"Right. And I'm the Pope," she retorted. "There is something else going here. Should I find someone to look at you?"

"No!" he hissed between clenched teeth.

Steeling herself against his displeasure she pressed on. "Seriously, I know you don't like to hear any bad news, but something is definitely not right here."

He raised his chin and sighed. "Just the same old thing I've had all along," he grumbled.

She arched her eyebrows. "You're glowing."

His eyes pinned hers and his eyebrows were knitted into a severe scowl. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm not glowing."

Energetically she nodded. "Yeah, you are."

Shaking his head, he snorted angrily. "It's probably just something Elven happening. That magic creates light in the strangest ways."

"Or not. Kili, this isn't something in the air. It's you. You never glowed before but you do now."

He didn't respond, simply turned his head away from her as he closed his eyes. She scooted closer and wrapped her arms around him, leaning her head against his back.

"Is there any way I could convince you to have a healer looking at you? I have run out of rational explanations now so it's just. . . magic left. And I know nothing about such things. People here do," she whispered.

"It will pass."

"I know it usually does. I don't understand this stubbornness though. If this would stop altogether, wouldn't that be preferable?"

No answer.

"Kili, I'm not judging you. I'm just worried."

He gripped one of her hands and squeezed it tightly, to the point where it started to become painful. "Mari, I know you care, but please, leave it. It's bad enough that it's happening again, now in particular. I can't allow it to interfere with our journey."

She sighed unhappily, preparing for a long night, watching him riding this out. "Anything you want?" she asked quietly.

He shook his head slightly. "This is fine," he whispered.

"Just tell me if you change your mind." Mari closed her eyes as she felt him nod his head.

o.o.o

Fili watched his brother sit down on the platform just within reach. It was a small gesture, but it filled him with relief. It had only been a few days, but the change he could see in Kili made it seem like more time had elapsed. From Gisla, who had unwittingly ended up trapped by the hot springs with no way out and thus being forced to watch Kili and Mari for a couple of hours, he had learned that Kili had decided to adopt a more Dwarven style. Now the result was before him.

It was disconcerting, Fili decided, and guilt ripped through him. He could not deny that he had wished to see this for a long time – his brother conforming a bit more – but now it felt all wrong. Despite his decision to challenge long-held notions of purity, hierarchy and ideals that had hurt Gisla and Kili and possibly could drive both Mari and Kili away, he had not lived according to what he was preaching. His brother had long ago rejected this mould, yet here he was. Giving in to pressure, and it was he, Fili, who was to blame. His face burned with shame.

His brother had six braids; two which kept his bangs out of his face, braided back to the rear of his head where his clasp held them in place. Two thicker ones were braided from high up his temple, hanging at the sides of his face, similar to the way Fili wore his, and just behind his ears he had another set of braids. If needed those four braids by his ears could be tied back with one clasp and would then keep all of his hair in check, a lot better than before.

It was a practical choice of braids, first and foremost, which didn't surprise Fili. It was what a warrior would choose, though he suspected Mari could have had something to do with this decision. For not being a Dwarf she was gifted in braiding and she always favoured the most practical kinds.

He also noticed that Kili's stubble was turning into a short beard. It had already started to transform the impression he gave. For the first time Fili wondered just how superficial was this ideal was that they all tried to measure up to. It should be enough that they were Dwarves at least, but it went further than that, and not just for them, who were scrutinised and judged by everyone, often in public.

Fili motioned vaguely at his brother's face. "So how long are you going to let it grow?" he asked.

Kili shrugged. "Haven't decided yet. Not too long though. I'm still an archer after all."

"So, about Uncle's length?"

"Something like that." With a lopsided grin Kili continued, "I'm almost there already."

Nodding, Fili couldn't help cracking a grin. "No braids?"

A real laugh changed Kili's face, and his eyes sparkled mirthfully. "You wish," he chuckled. "No, absolutely not. I don't understand why you keep them."

They both sobered and eyed each other thoughtfully. "It's difficult to see you like this," Fili admitted. To his surprise Kili winced and averted his eyes. "What's the matter?"

"I was angered by what you said, but there's some truth in it." Kili stared at a spot behind his blond brother.

Fili gave him a pained smile. "Kili, you are Dwarven enough. You don't need to do this."

"I'm not dumb, Fili. I have ears. I know what has been said, and I know it will matter in the long run, in particular considering Mari. I have been thinking about this for a long time and if I'm to do this, now is the time. We're not far from the Iron Hills, three-four weeks out." Kili drew a deep breath. "I need to do my part."

Fili winced. "You shouldn't have to. And I should not be the one forcing you."

"This is just a cover up, trying to hide the truth. There is something wrong with me after all." Kili curled in on himself.

Impulsively Fili leaned forward and put his hand on Kili's knee, staring intently at him. "I apologise for saying that thing about deficiency and something being wrong with you. You're hale and hearty, aside from some pain now and then when you were younger and grew rapidly. It's peculiar, but it doesn't disqualify you as a Dwarf."

Kili withdrew even more and Fili's hand fell from his knee. "Depends what that really is," Kili retorted very quietly.

Fili looked alarmed and attempted to catch Kili's eyes, not succeeding. "Kili?" he prompted.

"You can't force me to stay behind," Kili bit back.

"I wasn't going to. Please, tell me what's going on!" Fili pleaded.

Raising his eyes, Kili searched his brother's face, looking slightly confused. "Hasn't Mari talked to you?"

Shaking his head, Fili frowned. "Why would she speak with me? Not that we don't talk, we do, but there's nothing. . . " His voice tapered off. "Neither Gisla nor Ori has said anything."

"They wouldn't know," Kili dismissed. "I don't know what's going on." He hesitated a beat, licking his lips. "I don't know if it's. . . her imagination. All I know is that those episodes gradually are becoming stronger and last longer. And though I have felt pain, that's not all to it. It's actually. . . not so bad any more. I really can't explain it."

Fili looked slightly confused. "So. . . what?"

"Mari is very worried. But I'm. . . We don't worry about the same things." Kili cracked a pained smile. "She thinks I'm wrong about this not being a threat to my life."

Looking away, Fili drew a ragged breath. "Maybe. . . " He frowned and then darted a startled glance at his brother.

Kili stared at him and shook his head vigorously. "No, I'm not a Deathless."

Fili shoot him a sour look. "You don't _want_ to be."

"I'm _not_ ," Kili insisted. "You know as well as I do that it's apparent at birth if that's so."

"Then what is it? Have you grown?"

Kili shook his head. "Not this time. I fit just fine in my clothes. There's something else happening, but I can't find the right words to explain it."

"Once Erebor is secure you won't escape a thorough examination. I'll not interfere as long as it's not having any repercussions on your everyday life. As long as you can keep living normally. But if it becomes a problem, if it's clear that it's hurting you, it must be looked at." Fili gazed sternly at Kili who scowled back at him.

"I'll do everything in my power to help you. If it means we'll miss the window of opportunity we have right now, then so be it. I will not leave you behind and I will do what it takes to keep you safe and alive."

For a long while they stared at each other, then Fili's eyes darted away. "I have a lot to make up for. I feel like I'm stumbling through life, trying to do what's right, but ending up hurting those I love. I can't express how much I regret what I've said and done lately."

Kili studied him pensively. "How are you and Gisla doing?" he asked.

"Better. Now." He sighed. "I envy you sometimes. You always found it easier to talk about difficult things." With a small smile he shot a glance at his brother. "I finally understand the benefit of Mari being unable to form the kind of bonds we tie. It forces you to speak to each other in a way we are unused to," he added and turned his eyes to his hands.

"Fili. . . There's nothing that is perfect. She has a different perspective and that is a very good thing a lot of times, but there are moments I wish she responded as a One would. I miss that wordless connection. Sometimes. But it's getting better and I suppose it's because we know each other better."

They lapsed into silence.

"It will take time to get used to all of this," Fili said and waved at his brother. "You look. . . " He hesitated, "a bit like Thror, in his youth," he finally managed. Unlike me, he added silently. "I suppose that was the plan."

Kili darted a startled look at his brother, which turned into embarrassment. "It was. I thought it would be prudent to remind everyone who we are now."

"The things you're willing to do for us to succeed. . . " Fili sighed and shook his head. "Puts me to shame."

"I'd argue that learning Sindarin was much more of an effort on my part, than braiding my hair and letting my beard grow a bit." Kili's voice was dry.

"Oh, I don't know. You seem quite at home among the Elves," Fili said with a lopsided and warm smile.

"Don't you get any ideas. I'm not interested in any ambassador posts here or in any of the other Elven kingdoms," Kili retorted curtly.

Fili instantly dropped his eyes to the ground, as the words stabbed through him. He swallowed to alleviate the pressure in his throat, making his voice slightly hoarse. "No need to worry. I'll not let you go if I can help it." Looking up again, their eyes locked and Kili slowly nodded.

"There could be a solution to the residential problem Mari and I may face." Kili didn't look exactly pleased as he paused, but drew a deep breath and plunged into a brief explanation. "Dale is almost at shouting distance from the gates and she is right, she'd not be denied to make Dale her home."

Fili's face darkened. "It would be no different than what you had in the Shire."

Kili chuckled. "Now you sound just like me."

"Hardly a surprise, is it? Yes, Dale is close, but it's not Erebor. And imagine the gossip. It could become vicious."

"I know," Kili sighed.

"No." Fili shook his head, and pulled himself up, dismissing the thought entirely. "I'll not accept anything less than you being allowed to make Erebor your home. The both of you."

"You can't fight everyone."

"Watch me."

"But you can't. What if Mari isn't accepted despite our efforts?" Kili glanced away. "I won't let her go."

"And I won't let go of you. Not of Mari either." Fili studied his brother intently.

"Then we're back to the winter in Shire, after I made the promise to Mari. This time you can't leave though." Kili solemnly sought Fili's eyes, but they skittered away from him and glared holes at something at the distance.

"I won't accept it," he repeated.

With a slight nod Kili replied, "Let's hope we'll win this fight then."

o.o.o

Tauriel sat very still with her eyes on her plate, as she discreetly used her senses, mindful to not be intrusive. She had not trusted her senses at first, but fairly quickly she had to face truth; Kili was not quite like the other Dwarves. There was something lurking there, slowly surfacing, something she couldn't quite believe was true. But it was.

"I don't want to seem intrusive, but are you well?"

She raised her eyes and stared into Kili's concerned face. She could read him like few others which was a reason why she so quickly had taken to him. He liked _her_ and he didn't try to hide that he did, he enjoyed her sense of humour and was interested in what she had to say. Likewise she appreciated his cheerfulness and curiosity, as well as his more contemplative side. They never lacked things to speak of. She could certainly see how in a time when his heart was not bound to another, this could turn into more than just friendship.

Absently she realised that his eyes weren't as brown as they seemed at a distance, but that the iris was rimmed dark grey. She smiled wanly at him and retreated back behind her carefully crafted shield.

"I'm quite well thank you," she replied.

He didn't look like he believed her and pointed at her plate. "You have hardly eaten anything."

"I was simply distracted." She was being evasive, she knew, and she was most likely not succeeding in hiding that she was.

The young dark-haired Dwarf sighed. "I never meant to cause any difficulties," he said quietly.

"Which is why I don't hold anything against you. It's behind us now." Her smile warmed. "Fili and I have spent quite some time discussing matters in your absence. It has been beneficial to both of us, I believe." Her eyes sought his brother momentarily who was engaged in a discussion with Ori, looking much better than he had over the past days.

At her side Kili slowly nodded and then he subtly grimaced. Tauriel felt a spike of discomfort from him and she eyed him carefully, which apparently didn't go unnoticed as his eyes snapped to hers.

"Can all Elves poke around in others' minds?" His tone had sharpened and he was guarded, amateurishly raising defences around himself, the way an Elfling would on instinct. At the same time she sensed embarrassment at his instinctive response.

"We are. . . aware of everything living around us," she attempted to explain. "Trees, animals. . . and people."

He arched an eyebrow at her and she couldn't keep the corners of her mouth from curving upwards slightly. "I cannot read your mind though, if that's what you're asking. Your thoughts are your own." Tilting her head somewhat she considered him. "Who was the first Elf you met?" she asked.

For a second he seemed to give it some thought, then he straightened his back slightly. "Lady Galadriel."

She nodded and the slight amusement lit her eyes. "She set quite a standard for the rest of us, didn't she?"

"I know she's very powerful and that most can't do what she can. It's not that I think you're all the same," he hurried to say apologetically.

"But if she can search hearts and minds, gaze into the past and the future, others could too, isn't that so? At least to a degree."

"Maybe," he admitted.

With precise motions she picked up the fork and stabbed a piece of the root vegetables on her plate. "Searching hearts and minds – it's instinctive, but untrained we only sense emotions and strong inclinations, and if there's something at fault. Learning to communicate without words is not for everyone and commonly Silvan Elves are not capable of learning. Gazing into the past and the future. . . " There was a pause. "Again, we can sense things. Sometimes. Some are very good at this." She smiled. "For most our ability never goes beyond sensing emotions and major events. I have, however, been taught to heal which is useful in my line of work. It means I am more sensitive in particular to pain and distress than are many others."

She could feel him wrap the defences he had tighter around himself and she paused, causing him to physically pull back a fraction and watch her.

"I do not mean to make you uncomfortable." Cautiously she studied him, pondering just what she could say. "You are uncommonly sensitive."

"Which you know a lot about?" He was a touch defensive. So, he did not wish to be reminded of what he must have discovered himself, she concluded.

"It's usually only Elves who are that susceptible," she said mildly.

A slight smirk crossed his features. "But all Dwarves are wary of Elves. It tends to make us. . . suspicious."

"Have I suddenly lost your trust?" she asked, arching an eyebrow at him. She knew she hadn't, but she couldn't help needling him a bit.

He ducked his head, then quickly shook it. "No, but I never overly much liked having my privacy invaded. Doesn't matter by whom." He glanced up at her again, looking guilty. "Not that I think you'd hurt me or anything but. . . "

She slowly shook her head. "I have no intention of invading anyone's privacy. However, I will notice if someone is experiencing some kind of distress."

Kili's face closed off immediately and he dropped his gaze to the plate in front of him. Tauriel suppressed a sigh.

This was a difficult situation. He was unaware of his Elven side. They were all unaware, his brother, Mari, and his friends, and the explanation had to be that it was a secret, kept from everyone. Easily done if there was nothing truly out of the ordinary revealing a mixed heritage.

He had, however, spent the winter in Lothlorien where everyone must have been aware of the slowly awakening light she felt, yet this had been kept from him. It puzzled her, she had to admit.

She considered several reasons for not enlightening him, but couldn't determine which was the most likely. It was unlikely that Lady Galadriel hadn't looked into this. The Lady of Light must have decided the time was not right for any revelations, she mused. This meant that she, Tauriel, shouldn't bring it up either, in particular since she had no knowledge of the past. She could provide no answers.

However, there was an issue here she couldn't ignore. He was suffering some discomfort because of it. She could alleviate it, but she couldn't force it on him.

"Thank you, but I'm fine," Kili rebuffed and grabbed the wine and drank deeply.

When she glanced away her eyes met Mari's, who had studied their interaction and most likely overheard their conversation too. Tauriel had been aware of it, but ignored it. There was no reason to hide any conversation from her after all.

It was interesting, she mused, because this young woman was clearly very curious about her, and very guarded at the same time. Considering the revelations she had made, Tauriel easily guessed the reason for her caution. In this instant however, Mari displayed sympathy. She was apparently aware of the discomfort Kili suffered, Tauriel surmised, and had tried to convince him to accept help, with little success.

Tauriel stifled a sigh. This was a delicate situation indeed.

. . .

As they were breaking up from the table, Tauriel couldn't avoid noticing how Mari seemed to be looking for an opening, an opportunity to speak with her. She lingered, though not in a too-obvious manner, catching Mari's eye.

"Could I talk to you for a moment?" Mari quietly asked as she came up next to Tauriel.

The captain gave her a nod. "Of course," she replied calmly. In the corner of her eye she saw Kili watching them closely while he was keeping up a conversation with Fili and Ori.

Mari ignored him and smiled cheerfully. "Come on. Let's take a little walk. It's nice with some fresh air," she said lightly, manoeuvring so she had her back towards him and could give Tauriel a pointed look and she smiled slightly in understanding.

"It is," she agreed and they began slowly walking along the walkways, leaving the others behind.

"It's so pretty," Mari commented, as she let her eyes roam over the surroundings. "I like the simplicity."

Tauriel inclined her head with a smirk. Mari was trying for some subterfuge, though she wasn't very good at it. "The simplicity is somewhat of a chimaera, as the architecture is demanding and the dwellings are not simple to build."

"Not surprising," Mari replied. With a lower voice she continued, "You have better ears than I have. Do you hear anyone following us?"

The captain shook her head. "No, we are alone. Kili may be curious and somewhat wary, but I doubt he would follow us deliberately."

Mari immediately halted and her shoulders slumped, and Tauriel stopped, looking down at her with concern.

"You said you can heal," Mari said bluntly, but slightly dejected. She didn't look up at the Elf at her side.

"I can," Tauriel acknowledged, not wavering in her gaze.

"I suppose this means you can tell what's wrong with someone too?" Mari's voice was barely above a whisper as she spoke.

"To an extent. As I'm certain you understand, it's complex. I can't rely on senses alone and to truly tell what's happening I must be allowed to thoroughly examine the ailing individual."

Mari nodded and picked at her cloak, wrapping it more snugly around herself. The April evening was a bit chilly and it was clear Mari was feeling the nippiness in the air.

"Can you tell me what's going on with Kili? Is it dangerous?" Mari asked, stumbling a bit on the words.

Tauriel froze. She had known these questions were likely to come, but presented with it, she found she didn't know how to answer them.

"You see, he started having these episodes when he was in general pain for a while – half an hour to an hour at the most – in Lorien. He says he's had them since he was a boy but I had never seen any before. Either it wasn't this bad before or he hasn't had one in quite a while. But now it comes fairly frequently. . . " Mari's voice tapered off.

"Sometimes. . . " She hesitated. "Sometimes he glows. Faintly, but. . . It's not something lighting him up, but it comes from inside. He can't see it, but I do." Mari shook her head. "It sounds ludicrous. Complete bonkers. I thought that maybe I was mistaken, but it has happened twice now. I have never heard of Dwarves emanating light. And Dwarves generally don't become ill. . . " She shifted from one foot to the other, studying the planks under her feet as they moved slightly under her weight.

Tauriel stood quietly thinking for a good while, finding the words to explain without blundering. "Kili is not ill," she began and smiled reassuringly. "It's not dangerous," she continued. "I hesitate to reveal the precise nature of this condition, as I do not have the answers necessary to explain."

"Could you find out?" Mari pressed on, finally looking up at the captain, though it was brief.

"I could, but it would take time, time you do not have." Tauriel shook her head.

"This does not exactly fill me with confidence." Mari's tone was curt and she gave Tauriel a sideways look.

"As this was not touched upon while you still were in Lothlorien, I have concluded there is a very good reason for not speaking about it at present." Tauriel turned to fully face Mari and gazed down at her, trying to convey all the sincerity she could muster.

"While it's not a danger to him, it's still a serious matter, not to be handled lightly."

Mari contemplated her words, scrutinising Tauriel for a while. "You know what it is, don't you?"

Calmly Tauriel met the examination, and nodded. "I do, yes. I do not know how it came to happen however. In this situation that is vital information. Perhaps I could find more information if I were allowed to examine him, but some answers still would not be given. As this isn't contagious or even an illness, I feel revelations can wait."

"Please Tauriel!" Mari begged and reached out, putting her hand on Tauriel's arm. Her eyes were wide with distress.

Tauriel sighed and wavered, glancing down at the other woman's hand. Mari was so very worried and she could apparently not settle for reassurances. "You're too close to him," Tauriel said evasively.

"I know many secrets about this world and its future, not least about the Durins," Mari retorted solemnly. "I understand the importance of keeping my mouth shut."

For a long while Tauriel studied the young woman in front of her. There was a lot of grief in her eyes and Tauriel knew she'd have to talk to Mari about her knowledge of the future before they left. Mari would perhaps not be able to talk about everything, but she had insights that most lacked. It puzzled her how Mari could know these things, considering she wasn't magical in the least. Mari herself had claimed she had died, yet she lived, which suggested the Valar were involved in some manner. A possible explanation for her insights.

She decided to give in and nodded. "Kili is part Elf. He carries the light of the Eldar, and it's because this part of him is coming out of its dormancy that he's experiencing some discomfort. I suspect the lengthy visit in Lothlorien affected him. . . It's a powerful realm. Could spark such things that have been latent or wouldn't develop had he never come in contact with us."

Mari gaped and let her hand drop to her side. "Part Elf?" she whispered. "Wow." Her eyes were wide with wonder as she stood contemplating these news. Then she closed her eyes, looking pained. "Shit."

Tauriel stared incredulously at her.

"Thorin. And Dwalin is no better." Opening her eyes and raising her gaze to look at Tauriel, she continued, quite distressed, "Thorin can't ever know."

"This may prove to become impossible to hide," Tauriel retorted dryly.

Mari clenched her jaw tightly. "Well, I can see why you're not in a hurry to tell Kili. My little titbit about you and him seems pretty inconsequential in comparison." She shook her head and drew a deep breath. "Part Elf?"

Tauriel nodded as she could do little else. Mari angled her head slightly to the side and gazed at some spot behind Tauriel, and absently she traced the clasp by her throat holding the cloak in place.

"Dis is his mam, that much is certain. Fili may have been a small boy at the time, but he does remember the pregnancy and his baby brother being born. So the father then has to be. . . an Elf." Mari stopped and reached out to grip a branch, steadying herself. Suddenly a long string of unfamiliar invectives flowed from her lips and she tilted her face upwards, facing the sky. "He'd better be alive."

"He most likely is, though the only ones who know anything about him are far away. Dis may not know of his whereabouts either." Tauriel studied Mari intently, looking for signs of shock, but to her relief Mari seemed fine. Surprised, yes, but no sign that she was disturbed.

"I wonder how it happened." Mari turned her face to the west, as if she sought some particular place, or in this instant probably a particular person.

Tauriel put a hand on Mari's shoulder prompting her to turn her attention back to Tauriel. "Do you know anything about our customs and traditions?" Tauriel asked.

Mari nodded. "Unlike the Dwarves, you're pretty open about them, so yes, I think I have a decent insight into them."

"Then you know that for Kili to exist, his father bound himself to Dis." And it would seem unlikely that a Dwarf would allow an Elf to come that close without it being mutual, Tauriel added silently to herself.

Mari frowned, apparently thinking hard. "I don't get it. I mean, Dwarves can only attach themselves to one person, and Dis married Fili's father. She should not be able to. . . And she was still married to him. . . Kili was a toddler when Dis' husband died. There's something really odd here." She raised her eyes and looked intently at Tauriel. "Can Dwarves marry someone who isn't their One?"

"I fear you know more of these things than I do," Tauriel replied with a sigh and removed her hand from Mari's shoulder.

"But once you sleep with someone, you consider yourself married, right?" Mari asked, vaguely gesturing as she spoke.

"That is true," Tauriel nodded and studied Mari with curiosity, wondering where she was going with this.

A quick smirk curved Mari's lips. "So Kili and I are actually considered married here, in particular since he's part Elf."

"You are, yes," Tauriel acknowledged, allowing herself a small smile.

Mari broke into a low chuckle. "Oh, if only Dwarves were that simple," she sighed. "But that's the thing, Dwarves have to go through all that pomp and circumstance before they are considered married, so that suggests they can marry even if the other isn't their One. What if Fili's dad wasn't Dis' One? She's a princess and I suppose there would be some pressure on her to marry at least decently. And there was an air around Fili and Gisla of expectations no matter the emotions involved."

Mari looked at Tauriel. "That would explain things rather nicely, wouldn't it? That Dis married because she felt she had to and later somehow met and became involved with Kili's father – who happened to be an Elf."

"I have no answers. It does seem somewhat. . . astounding. But not completely unlikely," Tauriel had to admit.

"The Dwarves should be glad there are no gossip pages around here," Mari sighed. "I wonder then why Lady Galadriel wouldn't reveal this. I can't imagine she doesn't know."

Tauriel shrugged helplessly. "I can only speculate about the reasons why this was not revealed to Kili when you stayed in Lothlorien."

Mari nodded and then peered up at Tauriel with a smirk. "It could certainly explain why Dis has a different opinion of Elves than her brother. Maybe it's possible to change his mind too."

The captain's lips curved upwards in a thin smile. "Perhaps."

Rolling her eyes Mari added, "I mean in a friendly way. It'd be grand if you got along. He's not easy to deal with when you don't."

"No, both Kili and Fili have told me as much," Tauriel said wryly, and the women peered at each other, Tauriel with a smirk and Mari snickering.

"So what does all of this mean then? That there's nothing anyone can do for Kili?" Mari asked, reining in her amusement.

"It's not necessary to do anything, though it's possible to hasten the process and ease the discomfort. Once this process is finished, the discomfort will cease. It should already be easing somewhat. In a month at the latest I predict this will be a thing of the past."

"But hurrying things up would be difficult without telling him what it is, wouldn't it?" Mari tilted her head, dropping her gaze to the walkway they stood on.

"Yes. Easing discomfort could still be done." Not that he was likely to accept such help, Tauriel thought.

Mari nodded. "He doesn't want any help." Her voice revealed exactly what she thought about that – she was clearly annoyed with his stubbornness.

"I'm aware of it," Tauriel said calmly.

"Well, at least I know it's not going to harm, or worse, kill him. Now I just have to put on the charade and pretend I don't know anything about this." She gave Tauriel a pained smile. "Piece of cake." She made a face before she continued, "He will ask about our little chat. I just know he will."

"You could tell him that there's no threat to his life."

Mari shook her head ruefully. "He might ask what it is."

Tauriel carefully considered exactly how to put things into words without lying, yet not having to disclose anything. "Without a thorough examination I will not disclose anything to _him_." She directed a pointed look at Mari as she emphasised the last word.

A lopsided smile revealed that Mari understood Tauriel perfectly. "But how could you tell then that it's not dangerous?" she asked curiously.

"I can sense if it is or could become life threatening without looking closer. If it was indeed life-threatening I would not hesitate to act, of course. I'd reveal my suspicions and do my utmost to convince him to accept help." Tauriel smiled graciously.

Mari chuckled. "You're a lot better at this than I am."

"I have some experience with choosing my words carefully." The Elven captain was unable to hold back a smirk.

The shadow of one person in particular seemed to cross between them; the king of this realm. Mari drew a deep breath and nodded. Tauriel didn't sense the outright animosity from her as the Dwarves exuded, but Lord Thranduil was still not very popular with her.

"What will this. . . I suppose you could say, this Eldar thing has woken up – how will it affect him?" Mari asked, turning the subject from the Elven monarch back to Kili. As if to get away from Lord Thranduil's shadow, Mari slowly moved on along the walkway, and Tauriel followed her.

"Again I cannot provide any answers, only speculation. I doubt he'll change in physical appearance. He's an adult by both our standards now." Tauriel adjusted her pace as she caught up with Mari.

"So there's no connection to growth, these episodes?"

"There probably was, but it's not growth that triggered this, but his exposure to the light and magic ever present in our realms."

Mari suddenly paled and whipped her head around, looking up at Tauriel. "Lifespan?"

"Longer than usual. By how much? It can be anything from a few hundred years longer to anything." Tauriel shrugged helplessly. Personally she suspected he could live for a very long time, and if his father was a High Elf, he might even be granted passage on the white ships.

"Fading?" Mari whispered.

Tauriel hesitated and gave Mari a long look. "Possibly, though less likely. Of the known part-Elves none has faded when losing loved ones."

With a sigh Mari hung her head. "He was already going to live quite a bit longer than me."

"It's. . . unfortunate," Tauriel agreed. It struck her that since she would not lose her heart to Kili, she would not risk fading once he died. He would have died a violent death, that much she had understood. They treasured their long lives, her kin, but she wondered if it really was such a gift, watching the world at such a distance as most did. Was that a life worth living?

Perhaps if you had those who were close to you, a spouse, children, close friends. Then it would be possible to live in your own bubble and allow the world outside pass you by and now and then throw it a glance. That had not been her life though and it wasn't likely to change any time soon. All she had was her duty.

She longed to live, but she couldn't see how she could break free from the chains tying her to the task of captain. Her face darkened as she darted a look south, to the thing that hid in Dol Guldur, poisoning the forest and possibly also their minds. She pushed away her personal longing. In the face of that sickness, how could she consider anything but continuing her service? If only her hands weren't as tied as they were she would be able to do a lot more than she did. . .

Pulling herself together, Mari raised her head. "You said it was instinctual, this heart and mind reading thing."

"It is," Tauriel nodded. "I have noticed he can sense things though he's not aware of it. It's so natural to us, and he may have been sensitive all his life, so he doesn't understand that he has abilities others don't. This is what most likely will change the most, though it takes time. The extent of what he'll be able to do, I cannot say. If his father was a High Elf, it's likely he'll be able to do more with time, especially with some direction. If his father was Silvan, perhaps only a heightened sensitivity."

"I think I still need to keep it in mind from now on," Mari said thoughtfully.

"That would be wise, yes. Is there anything else?" Tauriel asked, gazing down at Mari, who smiled back at her.

"Hundreds of questions probably, but you'll not be able to answer most, I think. At the moment I feel a bit blank, but I may need to ask some more before we leave."

Tauriel nodded. "I will do my best to answer them."

Mari stopped and turned towards Tauriel, who came to a halt as well. "Thank you," she said sincerely and reached out, catching the captain's hand, pressing it tightly.

Tauriel inclined her head and smiled down at their joined hands, feeling the gratitude and warmth flowing from Mari. She blinked at the heartfelt emotions, unused as she was to such open display of friendship. It meant a lot to her, she had to admit. "You are most welcome," she replied and a quiet happiness spread in her chest.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back at Erebor: anything is fair in love and war.

_Erebor, 2941 TA, November 17_ _th_ _, 24 days after Smaug's death_

Fili cracked an eye open as his blanket disappeared, being yanked off.

"I could kill you," he groused as he closed his eye again.

"If you don't, I will," Gisla murmured next to him. The mattress moved and she leaned over him, and then the sound of something thumping at the far end of the room told him she had thrown something at the offender. Said offender snickered.

"I'm really disappointed by your aim, Gisla," Kili teased.

"You moved. Totally lacking sportsmanship." She sank down in the bed again, snuggling close to Fili.

"Come now, you can't stay in bed," Kili urged and landed heavily at the foot end of the mattress, on top of their legs.

Fili groaned. "Is this any way to treat a king?"

"Oh your highness, I come with urgent tidings! It is time to rise as a new day is dawning!" Kili declared with mock sincerity.

"Get off my legs." Fili pushed himself up and reached for Kili, trying to get a grip on his surcoat and chainmail to yank and push the rather heavy rascal of a brother off the bed. Kili started snickering and as he was beginning to slide off the mattress, he quickly rolled towards Fili, catching him by the waist, and off the bed they both went, landing with a loud crash on the floor. Kili's snicker turned into fully fledged laughter while Fili loudly swore at him.

The door was pushed open and a displeased Dwalin peeked inside. "Some things never change no matter what happens," he grumbled under his breath and withdrew. Several heads showed up in his wake, curiously staring inside.

"Get out!" Gisla shouted and glowered at them and the door quickly was shut.

On the floor Fili was attempting to gain the upper hand in what had turned into a wrestling match, which wasn't too difficult since Kili was laughing hard and not really putting up a sincere resistance.

"Oi!" Gisla barked. She swung her legs over the edge of the mattress and kicked Fili on the nearest shoulder with her right foot, sending him sprawling on his back on the floor. With lightning speed she put her left foot over Kili's throat, pressing down firmly, though not with too much force.

"Leave off! Both of you!" She glared first at Fili, who sullenly sat up. Then she turned to Kili, who held up his hands, indicating surrender.

The next moment Gisla found herself being yanked off the bed too, as Kili's hands clamped down on her legs. She landed with her back on Kili, who wrapped his arms around her, locking hers in place, while Fili materialised next to them and with a wide grin pushed his fingers into her sides.

"Oh you. . . you. . . BASTARDS!" she cried, gasping for air, and squirming and kicking to free herself, to no avail.

"You think she's had enough?" Fili asked once she had lost the ability to shriek and cry, only managing the occasional squeak.

"Perhaps?" Kili replied and pushed her off so he could sit, then let her go, leaving her in a breathless heap on the floor. The brothers quickly retreated. Fili started dressing and Kili straightened his garments while they exchanged grins.

"You're vile creatures," Gisla whined as soon as she could breathe again. They both chuckled in response. She slowly peeled herself off the floor and reached for her clothes, kicking at Kili in the process, who elegantly avoided making contact with her foot.

Someone rapped at the door which then opened, revealing Nori this time.

"You might want to sober up and hurry. We have a situation," she announced and turned her eyes to Kili, jerking her head to the room outside. Kili's mirth fell away immediately and he crossed the floor in a couple of strides.

"Dain," Nori whispered warningly before she allowed him to pass. Kili drew a deep breath and turned to look at Fili who nodded grimly.

"Be right there," he said.

Kili schooled his features and pushed past Nori, immediately spotting Dain.

"Cousin, what gives us the honour at such an hour as this?" Kili said with a frosty smile as he slowly sauntered across the floor.

"Threats to the kingdom," Dain replied sincerely and loud enough for Fili and Gisla to hear it in the adjacent room.

Dwalin had silently slipped up behind Dain and was now leaning his war hammer on the floor, prepared to use it immediately.

Kili nodded, knitting his brow, looking concerned. Fili came through the door and with a purpose-filled stride he caught up with Kili and halted half a step in front of him, hooking his thumbs gingerly into his belt. Behind both brothers Ori and Nori slipped up, on each side, yet in the background.

"That does indeed sound grave," Fili commented. He shot a glance at Balin, who slowly stepped closer, he too with his hands resting on his belt.

"Why cousin, have you learned anything in particular?" Balin asked neutrally.

"Indeed I have." Dain sighed and shook his head. "I already had suspicions, but late yesterday evening they were confirmed. It grieves me to have found that some of those who have been long-time friends to us all should turn into conspirators. Makes you wonder who you can trust these days."

Gisla slipped between Nori and Ori, coming up next to Kili, on the other side of Fili. Kili's and her eyes met briefly and Gisla's mouth firmed at Dain's words. Kili's face was carefully blank.

A sad expression was on Dain's face and he dropped his chin towards his chest. "Last night I was called to a meeting with the cryptic message that we needed to talk about Erebor's future. I went to this meeting to find out what it was about, though I, as I said, had my suspicions already." Closing his eyes momentarily, as if he were in pain, he swallowed hard.

"There are plans to kill Thorin, Fili, and Kili." He looked up. "With poison, most likely. The risk would be great that others would follow them into such a death, most noticeably Miss Mari." Dain's eyes bored into Kili's. "They have been very cautious though and yesterday was the first time they openly approached me. Their candidate to taking the throne in the chaos that would have erupted would have been none other than myself." He threw out his hands in a stunned gesture. "I would have had little choice than to do just that in such a situation, but as they chose to reveal their plans beforehand, it made it possible for me to act to prevent this from happening."

"How do we know you are speaking the truth?" Dwalin growled.

Dain half-turned towards Dwalin and nodded. "I think I have enough for a sincere investigation to bear fruit." He pulled out a paper and held it so everyone could see it. "This is the message sent to me, calling me to the meeting. I was seen by Bifur the toymaker – made sure of that. He can verify that I was there and whom I was meeting. I can give a detailed account of the conversation and of course the names of the conspirators. They must have something incriminating hidden away somewhere among their personal effects. If they're not given any forewarning it should not be too difficult to find."

"The names," Fili ground out.

"Nali, Aurvang, Skirfir and Billing." The names were given without hesitation. Fili and Balin's eyes met and Fili shifted slightly, straightening his back somewhat. The Longbeard Dwarves Dain had named were all well known, and two were from Ered Luin, recently relocated to the Iron Hills. Fili looked at Dwalin and nodded grimly at him. With a contemptuous look at Dain, Dwalin gripped his war hammer, swirled around and stomped out of the chamber.

Balin shook his head, looking grieved. "This is a sad day," he sighed. Dain nodded in agreement.

"We have not yet had our morning meal. Would you care to join us?" Dori asked politely, casually positioning himself between Dain and his escape route.

"I have hardly slept this night, much less had any appetite. . . " Dain said, inclining his head while he eyed the door behind Dori.

"Oh, I can believe that," Dori replied dryly. "Then join us. Please. It's the least we can do in this situation." He motioned towards the table. Dain shot Dori a thin smile and then slowly moved over and took a seat, being joined by Balin.

Kili gripped Fili's shoulder and pressed it, leaning close to his ear. "We'll talk later. I'm heading to the refectory," he breathed into Fili's ear.

Fili gave him a long look and then slowly moved to the table to take his seat together with the others.

. . .

Carefully Kili eyed the gallery as he left Dwalin's halls, as did Nori, who was hot on his heels.

"How did he know?" Kili hissed.

Nori shrugged. "He most likely spotted Bilbo. It's also likely he looked for an opportunity to kill the Hobbit first, but when no such opening presented itself, he knew he'd have to betray the others. He had to rid himself of anything that he might have linked him to them and their plans first before coming to us, which is why he waited until the morning."

"What a snake," Kili murmured.

"Aye," Nori agreed. They walked for a long while in silence. As they closed in on the refectory, Nori stopped him by catching his arm. "Be careful Kili. Never let down your guard around him. He has survived a long time, honing his political skills and he's very dangerous."

Kili turned and looked at Nori. "When will this end?" he asked, and his voice betrayed his youth and insecurity.

"I wish I knew," Nori sighed. "Possibly never."

Kili swallowed and looked down at the floor. "I never imagined it would come to this."

Nori patted him on the arm. "Chin up. We'll win. You're the direct descendants of Durin the Deathless after all. Now come along, lad. It's time for some of your best acting yet." She nudged him forward, and they resumed walking.

o.o.o

Gisla was projecting all that energy and confidence she wasn't feeling at the moment. She was exhausted. Her work had been demanding a lot of time and effort on her part ever since the dragon had finally died, but the past days had been particularly difficult. She'd had no time to catch up on sleep since the sleepless night after Kili had been seized, and on top of her usual long hours spent dealing with reconstruction issues cropping up, she had to handle the political situation too.

Everyone was very aware of whom she was and she could feel the weight of their gaze whenever she moved through the mountain. The initial shock brought on by the news that Fili now was de facto ruler had worn off and she could sense it in the atmosphere, like a shift in the wind. It was a whispered word here, a slanted look there, sudden silence and how some people seemed to have disappeared, though they clearly hadn't. There was little she could do, other than continue with her work and keep her eyes and ears open, which so far hadn't yielded anything of substance.

A loud screeching noise immediately caught her attention, and she scanned the surroundings for its origins. Shouts directed her attention to the lower levels and with a few quick strides she repositioned herself to get a better view.

Groaning from metal under major stress raised her hackles and she immediately saw the danger. One of the winches used to lift heavy objects had suffered a malfunction, and the piece of a pillar that was being relocated had been plunging to the ground when someone wisely had applied the brakes. Unfortunately, the arm of the winch had not cooperated, and it had partially buckled under the laws of physics.

She quickly headed towards the stairs leading downwards and as fast as her legs could take her there, she made it to the level in question. It had already been cleared of people when she arrived, leaving the master of security and the shift leader standing alone at a safe distance, glaring at the offensive object precariously hanging above the floor and the arm holding it, which could give way at any second.

The master of security threw out his hands as she came up to them. "It's the second time in days. If we get a third one, you will not be able to tell me it is an accident!" he exclaimed.

Gisla nodded grimly. "Once, yes. Twice? Quite unlikely. In particular since I presume they were looked at after we had the first incident." She looked pointedly at the security chief who huffed with indignation.

"Of course! I oversaw it myself! We found a few issues and repairs were made, though they would not have caused something like this. I personally double-checked the repairs."

She nodded at him. There was no reason not to take his word, though she was cautious. As the master of security spoke, she kept the shift leader in the corner of her eye, to gauge his reaction. He seemed sincere too.

The shift leader and master of security exchanged a long look, seemingly silently debating something between them, which caught her attention.

"You have anything to add?" she asked.

"Ma'am. . . " the shift leader began. "How's the king?"

Gisla sighed. "Alive. I have not seen him personally. If you wish to know more, I suggest you catch Prince Kili. He's keeping a close eye on developments and may be able to answer at least some basic questions." As per their agreement, she kept directing any questions to Kili. Very few had approached him about it, though, but that could be because this was still very new.

"There's a lot of talk. That he's gone mad, just like his kin before him and that Prince Fili now on the throne is a permanent change. Not everyone's happy 'bout that." The shift leader was quiet but adamant. Gisla was pleasantly surprised that someone chose to speak about the situation this openly with her of all people, and she nodded to show she was listening and taking him seriously.

"Of course there will be a lot of talk when something drastic and unexpected comes to pass, in particular since it concerns our king. It would be odd if everyone simply embraced change like that too," she replied diplomatically, avoiding the madness issue.

"I'm not allowed to divulge the exact details due to the ongoing investigation, but I sincerely hope we can see the king back as soon as possible. My husband has shouldered a great responsibility which we certainly didn't expect. Thankfully his contribution is mainly to oversee the work already under way." She smiled briefly. "The people appointed by King Thorin continue with their work as planned after all. I don't expect any major issues to surface that would require his attention while he's recuperating."

After a brief moment of hesitation the master of security opened his mouth. "There will be more of this." He jerked his head at the broken equipment. "And slander."

"I'm not unaware of it." The corners of Gisla's mouth turned downward as she glared at the twisted metal. "Prepared to do just about anything it seems. Even risking lives of their fellow comrades. I'm not comfortable with using informants, but it's tempting when things like this begin to happen. We need to rebuild Erebor, not lapse into internal conflicts that serves no one. I did not help kill a dragon for that to happen."

She noted that they lowered their gazes as she mentioned the dragon slaying. As Iron Hills Longbeards they had been among those coming afterwards, not part of the Ironfist contingent that had taken part in getting rid of the occupant. It carried a lot of weight with everyone to have been part of this achievement. Gisla was not unaware of this, in particular, as she was the only Blacklock reclaiming the mountain, responsible for weapon construction and strategy, one of only two women to do so. She had proven her worth beyond what could ever be asked of a future queen.

Looking sternly at them she continued, "Stay vigilant. Do as your conscience bids." It was as close as she could come to telling them to become whistle-blowers if they caught something. Turning towards the dangling pillar she continued. "Let's get this thing down."

o.o.o

"Want me to read for you?" Mari asked, picking up a book.

Thorin snorted. "I can read, thank you very much."

"I know you can. However, listening to something read to you is different. I'm not bad at dramatisation, you know. Something edifying, to broaden your horizon. What do you say?" She looked expectantly at him.

The faint voice, the one that would whisper about his enemies and how he should rid himself of them before they eliminated him, echoed in his ears. Of course she wants to soothe you, lure you with pretty words, lull you into complacency, it hissed. Turning you weak with her un-Dwarven ways and opinions. How can you, the rightful king under the mountain, even allow this? An abomination, that's what you have in front of you, but you can put an end to it. Her.

Staring at the wall in front of him, he fought it. It's not real, he insisted. I don't agree. His knuckles whitened as he clenched his fingers around the armrests on the chair he was sitting in, as he tried to ban these thoughts.

"Thorin?" Mari asked cautiously, instantly aware of the shift in him.

He closed his eyes and breathed slowly, willing himself to relax but it was not really helping.

"Thorin, talk to me. I can tell something's going on." Her voice, calm but sharp, made him open his eyes again. She watched him, prepared to make a dash to the door, but he realised she wasn't going to do that unless it became absolutely necessary. To his dismay he couldn't help notice that her route to safety was cut off, as he was sitting between her and the door. If she was aware of this she didn't allow it to show.

"I can't. . . " he clenched his teeth as he felt the voice continue to whisper in his mind, blotting out all sensibility.

"You were given a gift, do you remember?" she asked. "Have you tried to reach for it? To use it to support yourself? Try to find it. Focus." There was no fear or panic in her voice, only urgency.

His usual anger at the Elves stirred but he ignored it. Not my anger, he reminded himself. Re-focussing he searched for the calming comfort that was there somewhere. It was no bright flame, but more like a flickering dying light from a sputtering tallow candle. But it was not dead, and he fixed his attention on it. The drowning feeling slowly abated and he found it easier to breathe, and the light grew stronger.

Never before had he reached out for it to help him. He marvelled at the fact that he could do that, and that it aided him. For a fleeting moment he wondered what he had done to deserve this gift. Part of him didn't really want to see it as a gift, so much as something forced on him, but he knew that was unfair. It had possibly permanently weakened the giver – to what extent he didn't know – and no one would act like that to simply mock him, or put him in debt. He knew it had been given with the best of intentions and he felt shame stinging him that he would even consider foul motives.

As he opened his eyes he met Mari's wakeful ones. She relaxed some but didn't say anything or ask any questions. He heaved a deep breath and went back to clearing his mind of the disturbing darkness. When he heard movement and the scraping of a chair against the floor, he looked up again and saw her slowly make it over to the embrasure, tugging the skin lose and leaning against the wall as she pulled deep breaths of the cold winter air.

Stress made her nausea worse, he had discovered. Every time she tensed up and had to stay alert, even make a dash for safety, she felt ill afterwards. He didn't wish to press the matter more, though he suspected she still hadn't sought help. She spent nearly all her time awake here, after all. He contemplated trying to convince her to take a break for a while, but he was uncertain how he should present it. She didn't like being told what to do, and much of her resistance to Kili's repeated pleading was because of this. His interference wouldn't help if she felt ordered about, in particular since he couldn't actually issue any orders at present.

"Well, I think we can safely conclude I'm correct," she said from her position by the window, snapping him out of his musings. She turned around and gave him a long look. "You don't cure mental illness with Elven gifts. That only works on that which has its origin from Morgoth and Sauron."

He must have looked sceptical because she continued. "There is no such thing as _madness_. You either can be under the influence of something or there's something wrong with your body chemistry. A lot of things can go wrong with that, but I'm quite certain: this is something from the outside affecting you. Now we only need to figure out what. It started before you came here, so it's not the hoard or that shiny stone. Or not just that anyway. And the hoard doesn't seem to affect people in general other than the way gold usually does. The stone? Didn't seem to make much difference either."

Glancing at the view outside the narrow opening she furrowed her brow. "Did it change in Mirkwood?" she asked.

"Mirkwood affected us all. I was. . . shielded. For a while." He lowered his gaze.

She nodded. "But something has been eating you, despite this. . . what ever we should call it. Protection?" She motioned at him let out a frustrated sigh. "It doesn't add up."

He studied her for a while, still a bit dazed by what had just happened and the talk about Elven magic. "I have never reached for it before."

"But it worked when you tried?" she asked.

Slowly he nodded.

"Better late than never I suppose. But why haven't you?" The question was a genuine one, not to question his lack of judgement.

"I have no simple answer," he reluctantly replied. "Yes, because it's Elven I'm not entirely comfortable with it, but it's not the sole reason."

"It's supposed to help, heal and soothe. Alleviate. . . " Her voice trailed off. "But of course, something or someone trying to control you will try to twist you away from it."

She reattached the skin over the embrasure and came back to the chair. "I say this was a step forward – another clue." Picking up the book she'd been holding before, she continued, "Whatever it is, it clearly doesn't want you to get any ideas." She waved the book at him. "Nothing that can prompt you to think in other and new ways. Sometimes a fertile brain is the most effective weapon in a war."

Thorin smirked at her. "Are you angling for a position as a commander?"

She snorted. "As if I don't piss people off enough as it is. No, I'm not."

He leaned forward to take a closer look at what kind of book she had in her hand, and as he caught the book title he frowned. "You couldn't possibly read that," he said and raised his eyes.

Glancing down at the book in her hand she shrugged. "Ah. . . yeah I can. Well enough, anyway."

"But it's in Khuzdul," he insisted.

"Yes, I know it is," she replied patiently.

He canted his head as he narrowed his eyes at her. "When I lay my hands on my nephew I'll wring his neck," he grumbled.

She gave him a wan smile. "You'd be surprised which one who made the decision."

Closing his eyes for a few seconds, he sighed. "Fili," he concluded.

"Yes. I had picked up the odd word before, but last summer Fili decided I'd have to learn."

"As a step in preparing you for the future, no doubt. I reckon there are other decisions he made during your travels?" This both infuriated and amused him. Infuriated because he hated to be put in a position where he could only accept things as they were, but amused because Fili reminded him of himself. Considering the way things stood it wasn't a faulty decision as such if the plan was to let her into the family proper, and he was well aware that if he didn't grant Kili his wish, Fili would. Fili had again and again shown where his loyalty was, first and foremost.

Mari nodded. "I've gone through a veritable crash course," she admitted.

Thorin leaned back against the backrest and gestured at the volume in her hand. "Read," he ordered. At her arched eyebrow he replied, "If you learn it, you should excel. I expect no less."

"Does this mean you'll become a bloody task master too, now?" she asked incredulously.

He aimed a satisfied smirk at her, making her sigh. "I can tell from where some of Fili's tendencies of relentless pursuit come," she groused, but opened the book and started reading.

o.o.o

Kili strode through the halls with determination, very aware of being watched by literally everyone. He refused to give in to the paranoia though, despite the revelations made the day before, Dain's appearance in the morning and the arrests that had swept through the mountain, which apparently had triggered sabotage attempts.

As had become his habit, he was careful to nod at everyone and stop from time to time to exchange a few words with people he came across. Though he certainly didn't know everyone, he recognised faces and was good at remembering details. It had proven to be very helpful and right now it was godsend.

He spotted the Ironfist chief healer, Lif, and he changed direction to intercept her. As she caught sight of him, she stopped, calmly waiting for him to catch up with her. They exchanged polite greetings and he fell in with her, as she continued onwards.

"I'm dismayed to hear about recent events," Lif said sincerely.

"As are we," Kili replied cautiously.

"Then tell me the real reason for Thorin's disappearance from the public eye," she continued bluntly.

Kili managed to keep himself from scowling, but he nearly swore as he couldn't quite avoid a slight hesitation in his step. "You have the truth already, Lif. Uncle is recovering at a safe location," he said evenly, careful to phrase his reply in such a way that he was honest.

"If I were less polite I'd call that story something similar to dragon faeces." She glanced at him. "Now, I was raised to act civilly, so I will not imply you are lying to me. I'll simply remind you that I'm a healer. I have a reasonably good grasp of what was ailing Thorin before his sudden disappearance."

Kili wanted to groan, but forced himself to look troubled and sincere, nodding at her. "Then it's fortunate _I_ haven't been untruthful towards _you_." Not denying she was correct. It was the best he could offer.

The corner of her eyes creased slightly. "How is Mari faring?" she asked.

His smile was slightly thin as he replied, "Quite well."

"Again, you forget I'm a healer," Lif pointed out gently.

Kili recognised an opportunity when he saw it, and latched on to it. "It's something she would prefer to not discuss and I was not aware that you had an insight into this matter." He was concerned and allowed it to show quite clearly, hoping her medical interest would distract her from asking questions about Thorin.

"Any changes in the past week?"

He shook his head. "It has been the same since we arrived here. Some days are more difficult than others, but no significant change, no."

Lif squinted with her eyes. "I would like to see her."

Kili grunted and he scowled. "Believe me, it's not for lack of trying. I have yet to convince her it would be a good idea to have you or Oin examining her."

"Perhaps I could speak to her?" she suggested as if it was an afterthought. He hesitated, prompting her to shoot a glance at him. "I haven't seen her the past few days though. Where is she hiding?" she continued.

"I go days without seeing her myself. We both have work taking up most of the time we are awake," he said evasively. "The past four days I have not spent even one hour in my own bed. That's how grave the situation is."

"She has discontinued her usual line of work. I know because I have sought her there. If new tasks were given to her, they are kept secret. One could draw all sorts of conclusions based on that, in particular since it seems there was no need to conceal what the rest of you are doing."

"If one was prone to weaving a tapestry of fantastical gossip, yes." He clenched his jaw and glowered, displeased with himself for snapping at the healer at his side.

Lif smirked. "Losing your cool, Kili?" The wince on his face quickly killed her amusement. She came to a halt and turned towards him. "You need to watch yourselves," she continued sincerely. "People do talk, and there has been gossip surrounding her, that she in fact is the one who is behind any kind of attempt on Thorin's life. Others have come to the conclusion that wherever she is, you'll find Thorin, and you, young man, are leaving clues as to where they can be found. You have brought meals for three to the Royal Wing."

He very nearly growled at that but managed to keep his reaction at a deep scowl and a firm grip on his sword at his side. Lif studied him calmly and then nodded.

"As I said, I'm a healer, used to looking at the evidence before me. Judging from what I've seen so far, the slander holds little truth. But my profession makes me surprisingly invisible and allows me to overhear conversations that never were meant for my ears, and the information in them most definitely not for yours. She does have something to do with Thorin's disappearance, does she not? Whatever ails her – it's not what's keeping her invisible."

"You must understand that there are things that I simply cannot speak about with just anyone," Kili said, looking slightly resigned.

"I'm not just anyone, Kili," Lif retorted firmly.

"No, you're not," he sighed. "I value your friendship – we all do – but in this situation you must also be aware that I know of things that may be dangerous to share with someone outside the innermost circle."

She studied his face intently. "I have noticed Thorin's behaviour over the past weeks, behaviour that strikes me as quite unhealthy. People who wouldn't mind a shift in power noted the same thing and you could almost feel the tremors of an upcoming eruption when everything changed. At first there was a great confusion, then anger. Who had dared to act of their own accord? Then suspicion has slowly grown that this is all a ruse, that Thorin is either kept locked up or even has been killed, putting Fili on the throne indefinitely. Every day Fili is allowed to continue as king, any conspirators lose ground and they know it. Fili's life is more in danger than Thorin's ever was, because Thorin had the authority of having been king for so long." She paused and let her words take effect.

"Why are you telling me this?" Kili asked calmly.

"Because of where we stand, having this conversation. Without you, everyone would continue as before, dreaming of good old days, while waiting for someone else to brave the wrath of the dragon. To use Thorin's state to drive out those who have actually claimed Erebor back makes me sick at heart. To even contemplate such a thing. . . " She looked away.

"That is treason," he pointed out.

"Not if they succeed," she murmured.

He heaved a deep sigh. "It doesn't exactly come as a surprise."

"I should think not," she said dryly.

"Lif, there is nothing to gain for you in this. Other than enemies, that is. I know Balin has been promoting you but Thorin has been clear on the subject-"

She put her hand on his arm and smiled. "Oh Kili, I have no such interest in Thorin, and you should know that I never had. And the enemies I may earn myself are not friends I would like to have."

"So you reach out like this because of the goodness of your heart?" Kili challenged.

"Would that be so hard to believe?"

"Yes."

Lif smiled sadly. "Look what the past centuries have done to us all," she sighed. With a slight squeeze, she let go of his arm.

"No, it's not entirely because I feel you're being wronged. It rarely is, after all. I have my reasons – personal reasons, I might add. The best kind of reasons if you ask me because it means my loyalty is absolute."

"Until I or anyone else knows what this personal reason is, the only thing we have is your word," Kili said carefully.

Lif reached out and tugged Kili close so she could whisper in his ear. His eyes went wide and he quickly pulled back, staring at her, as if he saw her in a completely new light. "Truth?" he asked.

"Absolute truth," she replied with a small smile. He flashed a grin at her which evolved into laughter he was unable to contain. It rumbled through his chest but once he had subdued it, he simply smiled at her.

"When did you realise?" he asked.

"That's for me to know and for Ori to find out," she said with a droll voice. "Ori is a good person. Perhaps not the audacious kind, but certainly brave enough, considering he came along with you lot. Intelligent and talented. Kind."

Kili nodded. "I know he is all of that. And more. Have you asked him yet? I must confess I was hoping for this, and so was Fili."

"You colluding brats," she muttered sourly.

"Oh, we've only been encouraging him a bit. Nothing much." Kili failed to contain his amusement.

"I was going to ask him when the latest developments exploded in our faces," she continued, ignoring Kili's amusement. "Last time I saw him was four days ago. Something tells me it's not simply the increased workload that has made him vanish."

"No, probably not." He shifted from one foot to the other. "But you are going to ask him?"

Lif sighed. "I'd do it now if I could only catch him."

"You might want to try Dwalin's halls. Late," he said after some consideration. He grinned at her astonishment. "They're hiding out there all of them. Well, so do I."

"Why Dwalin?"

"He's Balin's brother and the one controlling the warriors. There is no safer place."

"Is it even possible to reach it for a commoner like me then?" she huffed.

"As you pointed out earlier – you're not just anyone. Being a chief healer comes with a few benefits. I can drop a few words to Dwalin so you'd be let through without questions. No specifics, just. . . to let you through."

A faint blush grew on Lif's cheeks and Kili smiled widely.

"I'll speak to Mari and see if I can convince her to see you," he continued, schooling his features as one of the healing assistants came hurrying towards them.

"Please do. There's no reason to suffer from ill health caused by the dragon when there's help to be had," she replied as she caught sight of the approaching young Dwarf too.

"Until next time," he said and nodded at her as the assistant reached them, turned away and continued his walk.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New destinations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahd-zafiri – my Khuzdul name for molybdenum, which derives from the Greek word for lead, as molybdenum can be mistaken for lead.
> 
> Fremd – not belonging to one's own family or household, from the Old English fremde, fremede, fremeþe; which in turn derives from the Proto-Germanic framaþiz.

_Minas Tirith, April 2941 TA_

Dis padded through the house in the dark wrapped in her robe. She had lit no candle or lamp but relied on her cat eyes, as Celarion called them.

Celarion didn't sleep as much as she did and she was used to his absence during at least part of the night. Tonight something made her uneasy though, and she had woken up several times. What this disturbance was she could not tell. It reminded her of the recent long winter, and yet it was different.

She had not revealed to anyone during those months that she had felt the stirring of magic just as Mari and Kili had. Her Dwarven insensitivity should have made her immune, but it hadn't and she knew why. Aside from the Hobbits, both Mari and Kili had sensed it. Mari had claimed to not have the "gift" the Hobbits had, but it had turned out that she had, being a Man after all, and Kili. . . On the surface he had seemed slow on the uptake, but he did notice it.

It had been somewhat unsettling when Celarion had showed just what he was capable of so many years ago. She had heard of the Elven abilities but mostly thought they were exaggerations. She had been mistaken.

He had sat her down on the bed in the room he had led her to that first night and kneeled before her, taking her hands in his, gazing intensely at her.

"There is something I need to show you," he whispered, and in that instant her mind had been flooded with memories and emotions, _his_ memories and emotions, taking her breath away. _Do you understand the depth of this?_ She was startled to realise he had not spoken out loud, yet she had heard him.

"It's true then," she breathed, staring at him. Fear welled up for a moment, and immediately all that was his was gone from her mind.

"I'd never harm you," he said. "You must know though, because even if I commonly don't search hearts, nor seek to communicate silently, I can do it, and at times I may not be able to entirely hold back, in particular if we take this last binding step.

A crooked smile curved his lips. "Holding back very strong emotions is not a simple thing to do."

It gave her pause. "I'd never wish you would," she replied quietly.

"No, but you will hear and feel them. At times."

"It's. . . odd, I admit that, but. . . " she smiled, "I suppose I'll never be in doubt."

"Unlikely."

With time she had learned more about this Elven skill and its limitations, often linked to the fact that she couldn't do what he could. Physical distance could not be overcome, it seemed.

Her life had not gone entirely quiet though after she had left Celarion behind. Never acknowledging it, nor encouraging it, for fear of waking something that could utterly destroy their quiet life, she had felt Kili's ability before he was even born, how he seemed to broadcast stronger emotions.

As he grew older and learned to speak, it sank back, going quiet, aside from a few occasions when he'd been in great distress or happiness. It seemed she was the sole receiver, though there were a couple of times she wondered whether Fili could possibly have felt it too, judging by the look on his face.

She was certain Kili was the reason why she too had sensed the magic present during the winter.

. . .

Celarion stood in the room just under the rafters that housed books and writing materials, the only room in the building that offered a view out over the tier wall. The vaulted large openings were glazed with small clear panes, cut into an elaborate pattern and held together with lead. In summer they were mostly kept open, but now they were closed to keep wind and the spring chill out.

"You have grown more sensitive over the years," he murmured as she drew close.

"Kili has your ability. To an extent."

A small smile pulled at the corners of his lips. "At least something he has inherited from me then."

Dis snorted. "Not the only thing." She sighed. "No, he doesn't have the height, but there are plenty of other things. You have the same hair. He has your eyes. Your smile. He refuses to fill out quite the way he should. Exactly what's hidden underneath I don't quite know, but. . . as I said, he can reach others. Me. Though I suspect Fili has felt it too. Mari? Cannot tell, though she should have. She's. . . not a Dwarf after all."

Not turning his eyes from the darkness outside, he nodded. "But he's still looking and acting like a passable Dwarf."

She nodded. "Aye," she agreed.

He sighed and let his chin slowly sink. "I'm glad. I truly am." His eyes were warm as they met hers and she knew he was honest. And yes, it had been a great relief that she could keep her secret, saving them all pain, in particular Fili and Kili.

"Things are stirring," he said and raised his eyes again, gazing through the windows. "I sense. . . You should go north."

"The reason being?" she asked, instantly on her guard.

For a long while he was silent as if he was listening for something. "It's hidden," he sighed. "Important, but hidden. I apologise. I quite simply don't have the same ability as my great relative in Lothlorien."

He turned his head to look at her. "But I do know this: you should not go without Frerin's sword."

She stared at his completely blank face. "You're frightening me, Celarion."

"It's not my intention."

"Will you come with me?"

Again he let time pass in silence. "I wonder if I will be a distraction," he mused. "I'm no warrior."

"Neither am I," Dis said impatiently.

"But you were trained as one, along with your brothers. I'd be fortunate if I didn't cut myself on something sharp and pointy." A faint smile curved the corners of his mouth for a moment then faded. "You would worry."

She swirled around, turning her back on him and putting her hands on her hips. There would be no peace of mind to be had now. The respite was coming to an end, as she knew it would, even if she had expected it to last longer.

Her mind turned to her brother, now on his way east, and to her sons, already somewhere not far from Erebor. She had expected to be the one to wait for word of success or disaster as had been her lot in life until now. It had been something she had always loathed, but also something she had become used to.

Over time she had developed strategies to make it through the long months of uneasy silence, hoping for the best but preparing for the worst. While Celarion couldn't offer any answers, the fact that he told her to bring Frerin's sword was enough for her to understand that this time around she would be expected to act.

Unbidden, the vision of the Orc skewering Vestri rose and she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. For as long as she lived, she'd never forget that moment, nor would she forgive. She had to admit that if the opportunity came, she would not hesitate to put Frerin's sword through that Orc. It was unlikely that she would ever come across that creature again though.

Her thoughts went to Celarion. Could she leave him behind? Again? She squared her shoulders. "No," she said out loud. "Kili has the right to know. And you should be there."

She turned back to face him and realised he had been watching her. His large brown eyes were solemn and sympathetic. "Did you use that sight of yours?" she asked.

"I saw your memory. I'm unable to tell whether I possibly sought to read you unconsciously, or if you in fact have mastered some ability to broadcast important images or emotions. It has been puzzling me for some time now." He hesitated for a few seconds. "I'm sorry."

Dis looked away. "It was my fault he died. I should not have married him to begin with. I hurt him in life and condemned him to death."

"You could not have foreseen what would happen. He knew of your indifference and the potential danger in associating himself with your family, yet he chose to marry you. And you did not run him through with a sword – that Orc did."

"But I hurt him."

"Yes, you did. But it was not all you did. You were the source of happiness too. Don't forget that I see deeper if I choose to and I did search his heart too. I know he believed the good outweighed the bad."

Her eyes went back to meet his. "I wonder if I'm going to bring death to you as well."

His gaze slowly drifted to some far away place as he considered it. "While you will be the cause of my death eventually, I doubt it will come to pass before you draw your last breath."

She went hot and cold and tears rose in her eyes while her breath escaped her. Quickly he closed the distance between them and gathered her in his arms. "Fading is the consequence for the vast majority of Elves if the spouse dies. It's not your doing."

Gingerly she extracted herself and caught his eyes. With grim determination she said, "I'll not let Vestri's fate be yours."

o.o.o

_Mirkwood, April 2941 TA_

Urzul scowled as she looked over at Tova where she slept, rolled up like a cat under the blanket with only her unruly mop of hair visible.

"We can't drag her into Dol Guldur," Shel murmured, having followed Urzul's line of sight.

"We can't leave her here either. Sending her back home alone is hardly an option."

Shel swore under her breath but quickly went silent. The blanket moved and the girl rolled over, facing them with her eyes open.

"I hear you," she declared.

Urzul sighed. The girl had two skills – she was good at hiding and sneaking and she had a decent ear. Not as good as the Elves, but Urzul had to admit she usually caught sounds before they did. Naturally she would hear them if she were awake, which she clearly had been.

She worked her way out of the blanket and crossed over to where Urzul and Shel sat, taking a seat next to Shel.

"If I were a boy, would you bring me?" Tova asked, wrapping her arms around her legs as she turned her steady gaze to Urzul.

Shel threw Urzul a glance too. "We'd not be happy to. But it would be better. These are soldiers. Bolg's soldiers. Not people anyone really wants to spend much time around no matter what or who you are," Shel replied glumly.

Tova studied Shel calmly. "I'm thin. If we cut my hair I could pass as a boy."

Urzul gave Tova a long look. It was so easy to forget that she had one more gift, aside from her stealthiness and good hearing – her ability to not look like the young woman she was. Binding yourself was an ancient trick, but it wasn't just that. It was the clothes she wore and the way she wore them, as well as the way she moved.

The problem was the large fair eyes framed with thick and long eyelashes, the small upturned nose, full lips and soft outline of her face. Most Orcs thought most Men, regardless if they were male or female, to be too soft-featured and childlike, but most would suspect Tova to be a girl even with short hair and dressed as a boy.

Tova's eyes darted away and she tensed up. She had clearly read Urzul's honest opinion on her face. With quick movements she dove down close to the fire and fished out a few cooled coals from the fire. She crushed them between her hands, scooped up some ash, and mixed coal and ash before she smeared it all over her face and rubbed it into her hair. She caught her hair and pulled it back from her face and turned back to the two Orcs.

Naturally it couldn't hide her features, but Urzul had to give Tova that she'd catch less interest looking like that.

Shel shook her head and sighed. "What choice do we have? We have to heed the call."

With slow and dignified motions Urzul pulled out her sharp paring knife and held it out to Shel. "Cut her hair. Unevenly and short. The more ragged she looks, the better. I'll see what we can come up with clothing-wise, Homraz and I."

As Shel took the knife Urzul stood and strode off to find Homraz.

. . .

"Just hold your head down," Shel wheezed.

Tova nodded and did as she was told. She trusted Urzul, Shel and Homraz. It was all she could do. If they could do anything more for her now she had no idea, but she was certain that if they could, they would act to keep her safe.

Her curly hair was a shaggy sorry sight, unevenly sheared, just as Urzul had ordered, and every inch of visible skin was dirty and smeared with paste she had made out of fat, coal and ash, as was her hair. She was dressed in a mixture of her old torn clothes and the leathers Orcs commonly wore, crude and ill-fitting, and they did their job excellently. If she was ever going to fool anyone into thinking she was a boy, this was it.

The forest had been turned into a withered bushland and the ruins of Dol Guldur stood out starkly against the sky. The moon was up, shining its bleak silvery light over it all and though she couldn't see that much, what she saw was enough. It was a large camp here, and Tova realised that the Orcs were readying an army. There was going to be a war, she realised and something settled in the pit of her stomach, something cold and hard. Fear.

Keeping her eyes on her boots she trudged on, following in Homraz footsteps. Behind her she heard Shel and if she raised her eyes slightly she caught the sight of Urzul's boots. They entered the fortress, winding their way through it, until they entered the heart of the ruins where Urzul came to a halt. Tova chanced a glance and saw Urzul's defiant stance and before her stood a massive Orc, of the Gundabad kind. It could only be Bolg, she realised and she tore her eyes from them and tried to make herself as small as she could. She did not want to catch Bolg's attention.

The conversation was in Black Speech and by now Tova had picked up enough to know Urzul was being dressed down for her failure. She was standing her ground though – possibly being the only one who would be allowed to answer back – and after an agonising ten minutes or so they were dismissed and started to leave.

They were nearly through the door when Bolg's voice was heard behind them.

"Sister." He spoke in Westron, Tova realised, and the chill in her belly exploded.

Urzul stopped and turned, facing him.

"You have picked up something," Bolg continued. "You went to those weak Men, didn't you?"

In the corner of her eye, she saw Urzul smirk. Tova couldn't believe it. She was smirking at her brother.

"It has always been my task to deal with them. And I have." Urzul also spoke in Westron.

Behind her Tova heard a heavy step approach and then she was shoved hard in the back. She landed on all four but scrambled quickly to her feet, keeping her head down. Neither Urzul, Homraz nor Shel moved or even looked at her.

"It's not even a full meal on those bones," Bolg sneered.

Tova stood very still in the stretching silence, hardly daring to breathe. Against Bolg none of her friends would be able to act and she could only hope they'd be allowed to go soon.

Bolg moved, taking a step in her direction and she pressed her eyes shut, holding her breath. More movement but not in her direction.

"You thought you could disguise what that is?" Bolg's voice was very quiet and unless you were as close as Tova was, what he said would not be overheard.

Tova couldn't resist opening her eyes, enough to glance sideways at Bolg and Urzul, standing so close they were touching. Urzul raised her chin.

"It has worked so far but I never expected you to be fooled," was her frank reply.

Bolg grinned at her, then shot Tova a leer. "Now why have you brought her along?" He aimed his attention back to his sister and his scowl was back in place. "Are you so fond of them these days?"

"You may think little of her, but she's a healer."

Bolg turned his head and considered Tova, then slowly circled around, coming to a halt in front of her. Tova forced herself to keep her breathing as calmly as she could and to keep her head down. He gripped her chin and forced her to look up.

"You stink," he declared.

Tova couldn't keep herself from scowling, but she pressed her lips into a thin line to at least keep herself from speaking up. He suddenly grinned at her.

"All Men stink," he continued and leaned in close enough for her to feel his breath. "Of _fear_."

They stared at each other and Tova tried to not think. If she did he might read her thoughts on her face and it could end poorly. He let her chin go and gripped her neck instead and forced her to come with him towards Urzul who was watching them with a completely blank face. When he stopped he nearly lifted her off the ground and she winced in pain but bit down on her lower lip to not make any sounds.

"Your pet, she'll work. Do what she's trained for."

Urzul gave him a stiff nod.

He looked at Tova again with open disdain. "It's only because she has some use other than as food that I'm allowing you to keep her." With that he let her go and Tova dropped to her hands and knees.

"Get out!" he ordered.

Tova struggled to climb back to her feet and somehow managed on her own. How she succeeded into forcing her feet and legs to obey, she didn't know. Her eyes were on the ground and she stumbled through the fortress following Urzul and Homraz, with Shel still at her back, unable to concentrate on anything but breathing and trying to keep herself upright.

o.o.o

_The Desolation, May 2941 TA_

Though Mari had a rough idea of what the map of Middle Earth looked like, she was surprised at how close they came to Erebor as they left the Woodland Realm. They had crossed into the Desolation almost at once after leaving the forest behind, with the mountain looming at the distance, reminding them of the reason for their journey to the Iron Hills at every moment.

Their crossing of River Running had a sense of reverence to it which Mari was quite familiar with by now. They set up camp for the night on the eastern bank and as the last rays of the sunset made the snow still capping Erebor glow pink, Mari sat watching nature's spectacle, trying to make sense of what she felt.

A rattle of pebbles and small rocks made her turn her head around. She spotted Ori coming down the slope to where she sat. Slowly he lowered himself to the ground with his eyes glued on the mountain.

"Impressive sunset," Mari said quietly.

"It must be like nothing else up there. There are places where you can see far to the west and the Misty Mountains," he replied. He tore his eyes from the mountain and looked at her. "You have been very quiet the past days."

"I have been thinking a lot. This is where I'm going to put our lives at stake." She gave Ori a fleeting smile. "I was going to change the events and save your lives. What do I do? I'm going to march you straight into the dragon's lair."

"We would have gone in there with or without you," he pointed out.

"I know, and I keep reminding myself that you would have and what that would have unleashed." She tilted her head.

"You use explosives in the mines, don't you? It's not just raw muscle that does the job, is it?"

"Of course." Ori nodded.

"Why haven't you developed a weapon that makes use of those explosives?" Mari turned to look at Ori.

He seemed taken aback, frowning slightly. "Making weapons. . . I don't know. I suppose no one's thought about it."

"Fireworks? Can you make that?"

"Anyone who can blow a mountain apart can make fireworks. It's not just the wizards who can make such things, though theirs are undoubtedly more. . . Well, you know. Fancy-looking, I suppose."

"We'd not need fancy-looking. Only what it takes to make missiles." Her eyes sought the mountain and her face was grim.

Ori looked mildly horrified. "Missiles?"

"Projectiles powered by enough explosives to fly a certain distance." Mari darted a glance at him and smiled. "You have no idea just how deadly my world is. We're really good at killing each other."

He nodded mutely.

"I don't know much about such things, but I have seen a few examples back home and I know roughly how fireworks function. I was thinking – those windlances shoot one arrow at a time and even if you make it as fast-loading as you can, it's more of a precision weapon. You aim for the dragon's weaknesses, yeah? It's really not that easy to hit those. If you can send off a barrage of arrows powered this way, in the right spots such as straight at the sides or from underneath, that should be pretty effective in harming him and possibly even killing him. Even if he only loses scales, it increases the chances of killing him with the next weapon he comes across."

"But it would take time to reload such a thing."

"Which is why it can't be the only kind. But think about it. Having a number of those strategically positioned, operating together with windlances." Mari grinned. "Boom," she mouthed.

A small smile started curving Ori's lips and then he quickly dug out his writing materials, holding them out to Mari. "Can you draw a simple sketch so I can wrap my head around the basic idea?"

Mari took the book and coal from his hand and started drawing while he scooted closer to peer at the paper.

"It's not exactly a work of art," she said apologetically as she held it up for him to gain a better view.

"No need." A look of wonder spread over his face. "That's. . . quite simple. A lot like what we'd do when shooting the more elaborate fireworks. Well, without the bolts, of course."

She nodded. "Yes, it is, isn't it? The technicalities you must solve, but there it is."

"I think we need to show this to Gisla." He looked up at Mari. "She's the engineer among us."

"But weapons aren't the same thing as sewer systems."

"No, but she knows how to handle explosives," he grinned and climbed to his feet. "And I know she can build constructions like this. She has already been thinking a lot about the windlances, and how to redesign them to make them work better and be more practical to transport, both from the Iron Hills and around inside confined spaces."

Mari stood as well and followed Ori up the slope.

. . .

Mari watched Ori where he sat, deep in concentration, with pen in hand quickly sketching as they discussed weapons. Opposite him, equally focussed, was Gisla, who often commented on the drawings, pointed, explained, and made calculations on a scrap piece of paper. Though Mari knew little about weapons of this kind, she had to admit it was interesting to follow their discussion.

The two brothers didn't participate in the discussions other than making a stray remark now and then. Otherwise they reclined supported by their packs while smoking. There was still an element of awkwardness between them, but it seemed like the downward spiral had been broken. They had often during the past week sought each other's company and, pulling away from the others, discussed various matters.

At present they had some quiet conversation going, consisting of glances and facial expressions accompanied by the occasional _Iglishmêk_ hand sign. Mari couldn't help but smile when she from time to time looked their way. It was a relief to see the change, and not just between them, but between Fili and Gisla too.

"About time," Ori had curtly commented one morning as Mari brought it up. "I was beginning to tire of listening to the litany of complaints, especially from Fili but even on occasion from Gisla. Thank the Valar you and Kili seemed to be on decent terms even if Kili and Fili couldn't communicate. How did you do it?"

Mari had coloured slightly and shrugged. "We talked? That's Gisla's theory anyway."

"You don't know?" Ori had looked incredulously at Mari.

"I don't know what it's like to be you. You can't communicate silently like Elves and yet you have some kind of bond which makes you less inclined to communicate verbally. Because we don't have that we have to talk sometimes even if we don't particularly want to. But I don't think we talk a lot. Not in comparison to what I have known in my life."

Ori gave her a small smile. "Whatever the difference is, I'm glad for it. I'm even more pleased it seems we'll arrive in the Iron Hills with peace among us, as it should be."

. . .

Gisla had almost immediately discarded the original design of the windlances that had been positioned in Dale at the time of Smaug's attack, not because they didn't work, but because such a design was cumbersome and wasted space.

"It needs to be transported back to Erebor and fit into narrow passageways inside the mountain if necessary. Ideally they should be simple to move too, so they can't be too heavy and we need to reduce the size to a bare minimum while maintaining fire power," Gisla had explained. "The steel needs to be an alloy with _hahd-zafiri_. It may not be enough to withstand dragon fire, but it's the best we've got that can withstand both the heat and chemicals. And plenty of string."

She had moved on to tackle Mari's suggestion, somewhat hesitantly. "It's an excellent idea for a battlefield full of Orcs, but I'm not certain it will do us any good when killing a dragon," she mused. "Damn dragons and their scales," she sighed.

"I always thought it was the fire that was the real problem," Fili said and made some smoke rings.

"That's a nuisance for sure," she replied absently.

Fili snorted. "I think we may have different interpretations of what a 'nuisance' is."

"If it were just the one thing, breathing fire, it would have been dangerous but manageable. But it _flies_ and it's near impenetrable." She shook her head. "If we could only trap it somehow."

"There's that missing scale, where Girion hit him," Ori piped up.

"We don't know if that story is true. We must consider the weak points. Eyes, ears. . . It must have other weaker spots. Under the belly, in particular where the limbs are attached?"

"Those are all notoriously difficult spots to hit," Kili grumbled. "Particularly in cramped conditions when you risk turning into a roast."

Gisla glared at him. "Yes they are, but somehow we must end it."

"It would probably be easiest and safest if we walled up the entrance and any other hole that beast could crawl in and out through and let it starve to death," Kili murmured.

Mari rose and quickly stepped over to him and dropped down on her hands and knees, giving him a sharp look. "Not helpful," she said quietly, then sat herself next to him. He smirked and reached out, put his arm around her waist and pulled her in, coaxing her to rest her head on his shoulder.

"There is only one way. Lure him into a nook where he can't turn, and blast everything we can get our hands on at him. No elaborate plans, just brute force," Kili sighed.

"The reckless has spoken," Fili declared.

"I want to hear you come up with something better," Kili returned. When Fili didn't offer anything he leaned his head against the pack and gazed up at the stars beginning to blink at them. "Excellent chances of dying, great risk of failure – we'd be following a fine family tradition I'd say."

Gisla stared at him, looking aghast. "Kili! It's no laughing matter!"

He turned his head and met her eyes with no hint of humour in his. "I was not joking."

"The simpler the plan, the greater the chance of success," Ori said quietly and looked up. "It's a brutal beast and only brute force will stop it."

Everyone turned to look at Ori and then they quietly eyed each other.

o.o.o

_The Iron Hills, June 2941 TA_

The Iron Hills settlement was heavily fortified, as could be expected considering its neighbour's fate. While these mountains officially had little in the way of precious stones and metals, it still seemed like a foolish decision to not make it difficult for intruders, dragons or otherwise.

It had never been a question of doing anything but arrive completely openly. "We're cousins, after all," Fili had smirked as he explained to Mari. "Besides, it would raise much suspicion to show up trying to hide who we are. A lot of people could feel very threatened."

The weather was unpleasant, for which Mari for once was grateful. Despite this being the beginning of June and summer, it was cold and windy, and a couple of hours earlier it had begun raining too. It gave her the excuse to wrap up in her cloak and keep her hood up. Fili and Kili had reluctantly covered up as well, but not too much.

Without question they were let inside the mountain, though they were being watched closely. Both brothers did away with their hoods and swept back their cloaks the second they were inside and reluctantly Mari pushed back her hood from her face, but let it still rest over her hair. Gisla glanced at her, not pulling down her hood completely either.

As Mari and Gisla slipped down from their mounts, a small greetings committee drew up, addressing Fili and Kili while curiously peering at Ori, Gisla and Mari. Mari didn't bother to listen to the polite and empty phrases being exchanged but as everything went silent she glanced up, wondering what was going on. Every eye seemed to be on her and she froze like a deer in caught in headlights.

"Your hood," Gisla breathed next to her. "It has come down."

Slowly she straightened and her hand went up to her hair. It had indeed slipped down, exposing not just braids, but also the fact that she most certainly wasn't a Dwarf. She shot a panicked look at Kili who was dismounting. He threw the reins at what could possibly be a stable hand and with long strides he walked over to her and gripped her elbow, pulling her with him. Fili quickly got off his pony as well, and reached out, looking behind Kili and Mari, and Mari realised that Gisla was following them.

"Lady Gisla, my wife," Fili said as Gisla had put her hand in his and stopped next to him. Only then did Mari realise he was speaking Khuzdul and it was suddenly clear why everyone had fallen silent when they realised she wasn't one of them.

"Miss Marigold Smith, chosen one," Fili continued, not bothering to explaining further. Considering Kili's firm grip on her it was most likely not needed either. He proceeded to introduce Ori while Mari stole some glances on the faces on the gathered people. Various degrees of shock and disapproval were the most common emotions she spied, though there were some who seemed mostly curious too. Some commotion at the back of the gathered crowd caught everyone's attention and people started to draw back, opening a path, revealing an imposing individual. He somehow reminded Mari of Dwalin, though they were quite different in looks.

He came to a halt in front of them and with quick eyes he took them in before he inclined his head.

"I welcome you to the Iron Hills. I'm Nyrath, son of Kjettil, chief of the Iron Hills guard. At your service," He paused momentarily, smiled diplomatically and bowed with great dignity. Mari noted the greeting had been made in Khuzdul. At the sight of her he should have changed to Westron, and she wondered why he hadn't. Kili relaxing a fraction next to her was reassuring though. Fili returned the greeting and they all followed his example.

"You certainly chose a miserable day to arrive!" Nyrath continued jovially. "Well, it can't be helped I suppose." He indicated for Fili and Gisla to join him, heading further inside.

"All the better when you come inside," Fili said, keeping his tone as polite as Nyrath's.

"You'll not be lacking comforts here, that much I can promise!" Nyrath declared and strode through the crowd which parted without hesitation.

Mari threw Kili a look which he didn't meet, though he pressed her arm gently. Quickly she wiggled out of his grip as discreetly as she could and caught his arm instead, linking their arms. He finally gave her a brief look and she noticed the small not-smile round his cheeks.

"I prefer not to be so obviously yanked around," she whispered.

Kili's eyes darted away for a moment, and when he turned back his face was bland, though of the kind she knew by now hid his amusement. "I know." The skin around his eyes creased somewhat as he struggled to contain his amusement. "Believe me, I know."

. . .

"That went surprisingly smoothly," Mari commented as the door closed to the apartment assigned for their use during their stay. She quickly went from door to door, peeking inside to find out what was behind them.

"It would have been a serious breach of etiquette to not greet us properly," Ori said absently as he was digging around in his packs.

"Oh! Look at that! The bathroom," Mari exclaimed cheerfully as she opened a set of elaborately carved double doors.

Kili snickered as he looked over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of what it looked like. "For not being overly sensitive about getting dirty, you do like your bathrooms," he said.

"Oh, I'm complaining all right. In my head. All the time," Mari replied. "Well, it looks decent enough." She closed the doors and continued onwards.

"What was more significant was that we weren't greeted with too much ceremony. It was just the correct balance of familiarity and formality." Fili sighed. "And we're none the wiser."

"How so?" Mari's voice appeared muffled as she had stuck her head inside another room.

"I can't tell what he really thinks," Fili admitted.

Mari pulled back and walked over to her things, neatly stacked alongside the other's packs. "There are three bedrooms here," she announced.

Gisla smirked. "One for Fili and me, one for Kili and Ori, and one for you."

"So we're doing charades again," Mari sighed.

Gisla grew serious. "You aren't married and to be honest, you and Kili shouldn't even be housed in the same apartment if this were done truly according to etiquette. It's because we're a small group and you're a non-Dwarf who would be completely cut off and alone if you were housed elsewhere. That's the reason for this arrangement." She glanced at Fili. "Quite considerate."

"Or a bloody trap," Kili grumbled, hefting a couple of bags, heading to one of the bedrooms.

"He is many things, our dear cousin, but he's not petty. If he comes after us, it'll be on a different level and we might not even see it coming." Fili smiled slightly at Mari. "Here we can do as we please. There'll probably be some gossip among the servants but there would be no matter what you did. Just don't be too. . . demonstrative out there." He motioned towards the door.

"I'm not the demonstrative one," Mari retorted, a bit defensively.

"You may need to remind the one who is, then." Fili smirked and turned his head, looking after Kili. "You hear that Kee?" he called out, loud enough for his brother to hear it through the open door.

"Not listening to you!" Kili replied with a sing-song voice.

Fili made a face. "You'd better! And I mean it!"

Kili didn't reply, and Mari sighed lightly, picked up her packs and half carried, half-dragged them towards the bedroom Kili had disappeared into.

"So what now?" she asked. "What's the next step?"

"Getting out of moist clothes, scrubbing ourselves clean and eating?" Gisla suggested.

Mari dropped her luggage on the threshold, straightened her back and turned her head to look at Gisla over her shoulder. "Right. But after that?"

Kili had crossed the floor in the bedroom and stopped by the bags she had dropped in the doorway. "We'll socialise." As she looked back at him he grinned at her, then leaned down, picked up her things, and carried them inside.

"I can do that, you know," Mari protested and gestured lamely at him.

"I know you can. But I can too," he replied as he put them down next to what apparently was a closet. Looking up he continued. "We meet and greet for a few days and then we'll know better how to present our little plan. Now, I'm hungry, so I'd appreciate if you do what you need to do so we can find something to eat!"

Reluctantly Mari snorted. "You can do things without me, you know." She stepped inside and walked over to him and the bags to start unpacking.

"I'd rather not. Not here." He quickly emptied one of the bags and started sorting through it.

"There are three other people here I could accompany."

"I know." He continued to briskly sort and hang the garments without looking up.

"Kili," she said warningly.

His hands stilled and he sighed, then he looked at her. "Yes, I would be uncomfortable not knowing where you were and what you were doing right then, but it's a lot more than that. I _need_ to be there. People need proof that the rumours are true and understand that there would be consequences if you were not treated correctly. That _I_ care. You're my particular responsibility. I know that makes you uncomfortable but this is how it is, and I know how to navigate it whereas you don't. It's my obligation to make certain everyone understands that you have the value implied by the symbols you wear." He gave her a quick smile.

"Give it a week or so." His attention went back to his bag.

"But what if something happens later on?" she asked, sitting back on her heels.

"Unless it's an actual life-threatening situation or you could be injured, you don't handle it yourself. Take it to us and we'll take care of it." Again he paused what he was doing, fixing her with his eyes. "I'm serious about this, Mari."

She nodded mutely and stiffly unfastened the buckles on one bag.

"I don't think there is any reason for real concern, but we're not just any travellers visiting, and the reason for us being here is a very important one. We need to be mindful."

Mari meticulously lifted the garments from the bag, shook them out and folded them neatly. Kili reached out and caught one of her hands and she raised her eyes to meet his. "I was jesting with Fili just now. I know how to behave."

"This is all so very different compared to what I've seen before." She frowned. "It's a bit daunting, to be truthful."

"Says the woman who is friends with one of those powerful wizards and who clearly isn't afraid of the Elven witch down in Lorien." A small smirk played on his lips.

"Just repeating the general views around here, mind you," he added as Mari's frown transformed into a scowl.

"You know why I find it worse. I don't have to impress Elves and wizards so I can live my life as I see fit. Powerful as they are, they have little interest in micro managing my personal life."

He nodded slowly and dropped his eyes back to his bag. She saw the set of his jaw and guilt landed like a ton of ore on her. "I'm sorry."

She pressed his hand and scooted over, pried her hand out of his grasp and wrapped her arms around him, while he dropped his hand in his lap and leaned his head against hers. Scuffing boots made her glance at the doorway, where she caught Gisla peeking inside. As their eyes met, Gisla smiled slightly and reached for the door handle, pulling the door closed. Mari closed her eyes and tightened her grip on Kili.

. . .

Never had Mari imagined socialising could be so hard.

"I can see why you fled when Fili and Kili showed up in Ered Luin," she murmured to Gisla during a late supper with the senior dignitaries of the court a few days after their arrival.

Gisla glanced at her with a smirk. "Oh, this is nothing. It's a small number of people gathered and rather relaxed in comparison to the larger and more ceremonious functions."

Mari looked pained. "Rub it in, will you?"

"You need to become accustomed to this," Gisla continued, sincere now. "You're doing well for someone who hasn't been schooled in our etiquette." She gave Mari a small encouraging smile.

"So how's it going, do you reckon?" Mari asked, letting her eyes pan out over the hall.

"Fairly well, I'd say. Dain is being enigmatic, which naturally means something. He's not thrilled about us showing up, but he's keeping things civil. He's not to be trusted, but on the other hand, when the ground starts sliding under our feet, there will be a significant reward in it for him. We can't relax, but at the same time we don't need to look over our shoulders at all times."

Mari made an unintelligible noise which made Gisla cough a laugh. "Gandalf was a bad influence on you."

"You understood, didn't you?" Mari said and raised an eyebrow.

"Fair enough. I did," Gisla agreed.

"But is there any _good_ news?" Mari pressed on.

"There might be. Nyrath, the chief of the guard, seems to have a friendly disposition. Careful, but there's something about him. I have caught him twice now when he's been studying Fili and Kili. In the good way. The chief healer seems friendly too. Did you notice yesterday?" Gisla paused and took a mouthful of the ale she held in her hand.

"Chief healer. . . Lif? Masses and masses of light brown curly hair?"

"That's her."

"What did she do? I must have missed it."

"She talked to Ori for a long while."

"Well, Ori is nice and intelligent, if a bit shy, but once you get past that. . . " Mari shrugged. "I don't know. We've been close for so long now that I don't think I can see him the way others do."

"Ori _looked_ at her." Gisla gave Mari a pointed look. "And she didn't politely withdraw."

Mari pursed her lips to keep herself from snickering, and then quickly brought her own mug to her lips to drink. "That's just far too subtle for me. You mean that if Ori looks at a female that's. . . Gisla, that's ridiculous."

"I didn't say he simply looked at her like you do during a conversation. He _looked_ at her."

With disbelief clearly displayed on her face Mari stared at Gisla. "What are you? Twelve-year-olds? Well, in your case I suspect it'd be more like twenty-five-year-olds. _Looking_. Really?"

Gisla huffed and took another mouthful of her ale.

"So, possibly the head of the guards and the chief healer. I suppose Nyrath has more weight than Lif, considering he's controlling the weapons?" Mari paused and tilted her head. "But they should know each other. Rather well too, correct?"

Gisla nodded and watched Mari with a glint in her eye.

"And. . . they're not Longbeards, are they?" Mari peered at Gisla.

"No, they're not," Gisla confirmed and a tiny, almost grim smile played on her lips.

"I'm sensing politics here."

"So do I. Though that thing with Ori, _that_ could turn into something interesting with time."

Commotion caught their attention and they watched Dain making his departure, bidding everyone goodnight.

"Well, that's it for the day then, I suppose," Mari sighed as Dain had disappeared, only to flinch as Gisla elbowed her in her ribs. "What?"

"Not quite, it seems," Gisla murmured.

Fili, Kili, and Nyrath stood chatting, but as Mari's eyes landed on Kili, he made a subtle move with his head towards the exit. Mari's eyes darted around the hall, catching Ori's look and arched her eyebrows at him. He shot Fili and Kili a quick glance and then nodded, and casually he, Mari and Gisla began to move to position themselves better for a quick exit.

"What say you?" Nyrath asked jovially. "One last nightcap before bed? I have some fine _Gemey_ I could tempt you with!"

"Interested?" Fili asked and turned to Gisla, Mari and Ori now grouped together.

"It's not late, so why not?" Gisla replied with her second best smile. "Besides, I don't think Mari has made _Gemey's_ acquaintance yet."

"Then it's most certainly about time!" Nyrath turned to Fili and Kili and gave them a theatrical frown. "Lads, I'm disappointed in you. Not introducing some of the best beverages ever made to Miss Marigold!"

"We didn't see much of it in the Shire. Definitely not during the long winter," Kili returned diplomatically.

"You have a point there. Well, we've got plenty here! Come along!" Nyrath led the way towards the exit with Fili at his side, and began regaling stories of epic revelries in the past where large quantities of _Gemey_ had been consumed.

"I thought you were specialists at making ale," Mari whispered.

"It's not the only beverage we make," Gisla whispered back. "Sometimes we prefer something a bit stronger."

…

Mari stood peering down at the mug in her hand and then sniffed at the contents. She could almost taste the smoke at the back of her throat after one whiff. "It's like. . . Lagavulin." She winced. It was whisky. And there was nothing Speyside about it either but it had a thick smell as if she were holding a peat bonfire in her hand.

Kili glanced questioningly at her.

"If there's anything I know inside and out, it's alcoholic beverages," she hissed at him. "An occupational hazard if you're serving people food and drink for a living." She raised the mug to her eye level and glowered at it. "And this I'm familiar with." Her eyes shifted from the mug to Kili. "There's no way around this, is there?"

"It's actually quite good," Kili tried.

Mari made a face. "I'm a cognac person. Not a whisky person. And most definitely not a Lagavulin person." She glared at the mug in her hand again.

"You can pretend to take a sip at the toast, and then you can slip me your mug and take my empty one," he suggested. "I'm sure no one will notice if we're discreet about it."

She gave him a long look and he fired her a wide grin. "And yes, I can handle it. It's not much."

"A toast!" Nyrath called out and raised his mug. "To our friends and kin from the west. May your lives be long and prosperous!"

Mari smiled stiffly and raised hers as well, along with the others. As she glanced around at the small gathering of people, whom she could wager all were Ironfists, she wondered if Nyrath was playing charades or if he was in fact honestly flirting politically with Fili. Pretending to drink she studied the scene through her eyelashes and what she saw made her stomach churn. She feared this was about to become dangerous.

Just as Kili had suggested, they swapped mugs and Mari dropped her empty one on a table and joined Gisla, who was having a polite conversation with one of the senior engineers present. It was possibly one of the most boring conversations she'd had to listen to and her eyes strayed, landing on Nyrath, Fili, and Nyrath's adjutant. The smiles were gone, replaced by grim faces and Mari's heart instantly became more noticeable, thudding harder than necessary. Kili, who had been playing the part of the approachable Durin heir, was slowly circling closer, keeping an eye on the trio. As Kili passed her she drifted closer and he slowed to a halt, offering her a small smile.

"Have you taken leave of your senses?" Nyrath all but bellowed.

Everyone in the large chamber went silent and all eyes zoomed in on the head of the guard and the blond prince.

"Not at all," Fili calmly replied and Mari marvelled at how his voice carried through the chamber.

"But challenging a dragon, with nothing more than perhaps a troop in size? It's madness!" Nyrath shook his head angrily. "Whatever induced you to imagine you could succeed with such a foolish plan?"

Mari stepped out of the shadows behind Kili and Fili angled his head slightly, shifting his focus from Nyrath to her and like magic, so did everyone else. Her belly clenched and her skin felt like it had caught on fire from the sudden attention, but she pushed it aside and met Nyrath's eyes without hesitation.

"Because I know what will happen if we don't do this. Devastation. Complete and utter destruction. A large number of lives lost. An entire town eradicated."

Very slowly she stepped closer to Nyrath and Fili, ignoring how the adjutant backed away. The gathered people shifted uncomfortably and darted glances at each other.

"There is no one who wants to build an army and march for Erebor right now. Everyone is hiding behind the excuse that they will only follow the one who is in possession of the Arkenstone, which is, as we all know, somewhere deep inside Erebor. Lost, just as Durin's axe is." Mari stopped, paused and let her eyes sweep over people's faces.

"The dragon hasn't been seen in a long while which suggests it's soundly sleeping. Someone small enough, light enough on their feet, could possibly sneak into the mountain and search for it. Not a Dwarf, obviously. I apologise for hurting any feelings here, but a step light enough to skulk around inside a mountain for an extended period of time you have not. Elves? They abhor the dragon and have little interest in the Arkenstone. Is there anyone else?" Mari shrugged enigmatically.

"Possibly. However, the stone won't be easy to find. It's not a matter of strolling into the mountain, picking it up from the nearest pile, and strolling back out again. So many things can go wrong while someone is searching, waking the dragon. What then?"

"Is there anyone who is willing to make such an attempt?" Nyrath asked quietly, having calmed down again.

Mari nodded. "And it will not end well."

"How would you know?" Nyrath sneered.

Mari gave him a close-lipped smile. "Not something I'm revealing lightly."

Nyrath darted his eyes around the room at the gathered crowd and nodded reluctantly. "Fair enough. But still, such a small contingent – it's a massive beast."

"Gathering an army would hardly stop the dragon either unless such an army is armed to the teeth, and even then the outcome of such a confrontation is not a given. That beast is also easier to kill if you face it on a battlefield that is to its disadvantage. It likes the wide open spaces where it can manoeuvre easily, use its wings, attack from several different directions. Take that away and the odds changes dramatically. To do that you don't need 3000 soldiers, but you need a mountain riddled with tunnels and weapons that are easy to move about, strategically placed. Smaug is already in a mountain so let's keep him there. What is needed are the weapons and a small number of people who are willing to give this a try."

Nyrath put his hands on his hips, turning his back on her and Thorin's heirs. A minute passed in silence but then his head snapped up and he looked around.

"Clear the room. Only our visitors stay," he ordered and watched the gathered people reluctantly file out of the chamber. Once the room was emptied his eyes landed on the small group.

"By Nain's bearded arse, you're one disturbingly clever _fremd_ ," he grunted. "It's. . . the best plan I have heard thus far. But to come from someone like. . . you. . . " He went silent and scrutinised her from head to toe.

Gisla cleared her throat. "We obviously need to look at the weapons needed. I suspect some changes to the original construction are in order and possibly also some new solutions. We have until the end of _Wedmath_ to solve any problems and build what's needed. And find people willing to join us."

"Just over two months," Nyrath nodded. "It could be done, I suppose. You have some ideas, I take it?"

Gisla nodded. "I do, yes."

Nyrath studied her for a few moments, shot a glance at Mari and then sighed. "Do not expect anything from Dain. Since you are who you are, he'll allow it, but he'll not actively support you. There will be those who won't look upon this with kind eyes and you will be left to handle them on your own. The saving grace is that if you do succeed, there is much to win."

"It's what we expected," Fili admitted.

"Ah, yes. And Dain will feel that his position in the line of succession is even more unjust."

"He has no heir and he's only a few years younger than Uncle." Fili raised his brow. "It's hardly a surprise Thorin has stuck to his choice, in particular now that I'm married. We can expect children soon enough."

Nyrath jutted his chin out. "And what if Dain marries and produces an heir?"

"He's what? Hundred-and-seventy-something? It's as likely that he marries as Thorin does."

"It's not impossible they will. In particular if Erebor is taken back. I know there are those who are casting their eyes in Dain's direction." Nyrath hesitated. "Have a care. Don't dismiss the idea."

"Well, if that happens, it happens." Fili shrugged.

"The throne means so little to you?" Nyrath asked sharply.

Fili fixed the commander with his cool blue gaze. "The throne does not mean more than our people's lives and future. I'm not going to fight for the throne, but for the good of our people. All of them. If this means I'll never sit on it, so be it."

Nyrath cocked an eyebrow at Fili. "A noble sentiment." He didn't hide the sarcasm.

Fili shook his head. "Don't forget I grew up in the shadow of Ered Luin. Sentiment is of little use there."

Silence fell in the room as Nyrath and Fili stood steadily gazing at each other. There was no hostility, only quiet consideration.

Nyrath nodded and broke the silence. "I'll give you a piece of advice, whether you want it or not. Reach out to the Ironfists."

Kili crossed his arms over his chest. "Is that so," he said coldly.

Nyrath grunted. "Damn politics. This is neither about Dain nor power. It's about lost homes. We must take them back or slowly go under. I'm certain most would agree, but. . . power and riches can make people rather short-sighted."

Mari heard Kili approach and expected him to stand beside Fili, but he stopped just behind her right side and put his hand on her back, by her waist.

"It's not like we haven't understood that we might find our kin somewhat reserved and not entirely friendly," he said.

Mari wondered if he had intended his words to have a double meaning. Judging by Nyrath's look he interpreted it as such; he nodded and his eyes softened slightly.

"They raised you right out there, among the halflings, Dis and Dwalin."

Kili ducked his head before he remembered he no longer had any hair to hide behind. Fili gave him an amused look and smirked. "Thorin was hardly absent," he said mildly.

Nyrath peered over at Fili. "Of course not. But he was still king. Is king. That takes precedence."

Fili tilted his head slightly and suddenly made a quick hand movement. Nyrath paused for a beat and then responded, with a sign of his own. Mari's eyes went from Fili to Nyrath and back again, waiting for an explanation. _Iglishmêk_ was still for the most part just gestures to her, though she had picked up a few of the hand signs. These she didn't know however, but she understood the importance as she saw in particular Fili and Kili's reaction, but Ori's eyes widened too.

"Old bonds die hard," Nyrath said with a glint in his eyes.

"You knew about us coming?" Fili asked quietly.

"I did. Got a bird with a message last autumn that you'd turn up here eventually."

"Amad or Dwalin?" Kili asked and shot Fili a look. "Not that we told them, but it wouldn't surprise me if they guessed a few things."

Nyrath shook his head. "No, this came from Nori."

Fili guffawed reluctantly. "What?"

"Who had been told by her brother, Dori," Nyrath continued and his eyes sought Ori briefly.

Ori winced. "Dori is such a tattle-tale sometimes," he muttered under his breath.

Fili and Kili both turned to stare at Ori. "You told Dori?" Fili asked incredulously.

"You know what he's like if you don't tell him what's going on! He's a fussy old git, but there are few who are as loyal as he is," Ori said defiantly. "Yes, I told Dori," he continued more quietly.

"Who told Nori," Fili said surely.

"Who then sent word out here," Kili pointed out with a scowl.

Nyrath sighed. "Enough lads. Nori was wise to warn me. Gave me some time to. . . prepare. Not that I could imagine you'd devise a plan such as this. Now we must pour our efforts into preparations."

"Reach out to the Ironfists, you advised," Gisla said in the heavy silence. She had, unnoticed, moved so she stood in the gap between Fili and Kili and her unwavering gaze was nailed on Nyrath. "I'm reaching out. We need your help." There was a challenge behind those words, Mari sensed.

Suddenly she became aware that they were positioned in such a way that she, Gisla and Ori were forming a half-circle facing Nyrath, with Kili and Fili a half-step in the background. Her eyes found Ori's and he gave her a quick smile. She knew their journey had been her idea, and that Gisla and Ori were vital for the practical side of it, but she had expected to stay in the background.

Nyrath studied them for a while, then surprised them with a smile, if a somewhat grim one. "A force to be reckoned with." He nodded. "You have it."

 


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprising turn of events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I recommend reading Winter Tales if you haven't already, before reading this chapter.
> 
> Onríptíd - Lammas. Knowing Tolkien's love of all things he considered English (as in not Norman) I decided to incorporate Lammas among the yearly festivities. Lammas (for those who don't know) is celebrated August 1st, which would be 10th Wedmath (according to the general Middle Earth calendar). The name is something I have cooked up from Old English by the way.
> 
> Most ME words I use I have either nicked (mostly the Black Speech and Sindarin) or constructed from either Khuzdul or Old English. I'm no linguist though and I'm trying to use them sparingly, all according to my own guidelines to not make things overly complicated and unapproachable. I was going to use our own calendar names in the story as such for this reason, but there's a lot of Roman influences there and considering Tolkien's attempts to not use words or expressions derived from Latin, I finally decided to use the ME calendar (though not the Gondorian or the Elvish).

_The Iron Hills, June 2941 TA_

Mari bolted up grasping at her knives as the bed shook under the assault caused by someone kicking at it. Next to her, Kili had already drawn his sword, aiming it at the offender while pushing the bedclothes to the side.

“No need to get all excited,” Fili smirked and leaned against the back of a sturdy armchair nearby, arms crossed over his chest. His eyebrows arched slightly. “This is new – you being at least somewhat decent when in bed.”

Mari darted a glance at herself and the shirt she was wearing, one she'd pinched from Kili. Next to her Kili sneered at his brother.

“What do you want?” he grunted and sheathed his sword again, then reaching for the bunched-up bedclothes.

Fili sobered immediately. “Dain is getting married,” he declared.

Kili froze mid-motion and then slowly raised his eyes to give Fili a slack-jawed stare. “What?” he squeaked.

“You heard me. It was announced just now. If you night owls had bothered to get out of bed and attended breakfast as one should, you would have had the pleasure of witnessing the spectacle with your own eyes. The lady in question is quite young,” Fili leaned slightly forward,“ and one you might remember from back home. Jorunn.”

“You must be joking. No.” Kili shook his head vigorously.

Fili smirked at him. “Perhaps you recall that just after the long winter, she, her sister, and their mother left Ered Luin to relocate here? I suspect there was a plan hidden in there somewhere. With us off the market, and still two daughters to marry off . . . ”

“It had completely slipped my mind,” Kili mumbled, dazed. “I did not expect _that_.”

“You could say that again,” Fili said curtly. “It wouldn't surprise me if they have already picked a name for their first-born.”

“She's pregnant?” Kili squeaked again.

“No you blockhead. But I'd wager she will be before Durin's Day.”

Kili scrunched his face. “It's too early in the morning. I don't understand.”

“They'll start working on having children the moment they're married,” Mari explained softly, trying to catch Kili's attention. Fili rolled his eyes as understanding smoothed Kili's face.

“You yanked me out of a very pleasant dream just moments ago so excuse me if I’m not quite as quick to catch on as I usually am,” Kili snarked, scowling at his brother.

“And what did you dream about then?”

“Don't quite remember. But there was food,” Kili grumbled.

Fili glanced at Mari with a smirk, and she rolled her eyes back at him.

“So when is this celebration taking place then?” Mari asked and pushed her fingers through her hair. They snagged in some knots, which made her wince.

“By _Onríptíd_. Tenth of _Wedmath_ it's going to begin.”

Mari sighed and averted her eyes, looking at the colourful quilt still tangled with her legs.

“We are specifically invited, kin as we are. Even you, Mari. To the entire thing, not just the aftermath.”

Mari frowned and looked back up. “I'm beside myself with joy,” she retorted dryly. “Why am I invited? I was to your wedding but that was a small family affair in a remote corner of the world, and even then it was . . . exceptional.” In the corner of her eye she noticed Kili studying her, looking pensive.

“Naturally for some political reason we have yet to discern. But it _is_ significant.” Fili's eyes were on Kili, who gazed back with a guarded look on his face.

Mari scrubbed her face with her hands. “Where's Gisla?” she asked.

Fili shot her a toothy grin. “She is having a polite conversation with Lady Jorunn – and is probably dying to be rescued by someone.”

Resolutely Mari pushed the bedclothes to the side and started climbing out of the bed. “You abandoned your wife? Shame on you Fili.”

With a shrug he stood, and hooked his thumbs in his belt. “Jorunn is becoming a cousin. We must henceforth deal with her,” his eyes came to rest on Kili, “and be polite and treat her with respect, no matter what we think of her.”

Kili grunted and nodded, though he didn't look too pleased. “It wouldn't surprise me if Dain would support me now. He'd be counting on my removal from the line to the throne if I were to marry Mari.” He couldn't keep his eyes from wandering, and they found Mari as she hurriedly threw on some clothes. Closing his eyes he sighed. “And if you and Gisla can't produce children . . . ”

Mari paused as she was reaching for her boots, and straightened her back, turning to look at Fili. “You should stop smoking. It affects fertility,” she said, jabbing her index finger in his direction.

“I should think the measures Gisla takes to not become pregnant are more significant,” Fili replied, looking slightly disturbed.

Kili's eyes widened. “Give up the pipe? Never!”

“You did perfectly well without it for many months during the end of the long winter and the spring after that,” Mari pointed out and pulled on a boot. “You should consider quitting permanently too.”

Kili flashed Fili a cheeky grin, who smirked back. As if Mari felt their interaction she stiffened, straightened her back again and whipped her head around and glared at Kili. “That was not, in any way, an admission that I think it would be a brilliant idea to find out if we can in fact have children.”

Both brothers gazed innocently back at her. “Didn't think it was,” Fili said gravely.

“Liar.” Mari's glare lingered on them for another moment before she reached for the other boot and pulled it on.

“Right. I’m going to find Gisla and meet this Jorunn. See how it goes,” she declared as she headed towards the door. “See you later, I suppose.”

Kili smiled jovially and waved, and Fili nodded at her. Once the door closed, both their faces fell.

“I don't like this,” Kili grumbled.

“Me neither. Alas! All we can do is grin and bear it,” Fili sighed. “Nyrath warned us. Maybe Dain would have married anyway, but our coming here most likely made it unavoidable.”

“To hell with him. We have a dragon to kill.” Kili said and pushed himself out of bed.

Fili watched him shuffle over to the heap of clothes occupying a chair.

“Stop staring at me,” Kili grunted.

“Then tell me how you're doing.”

Kili paused for a beat. “Well, thank you.”

Fili rolled his eyes and strode over to him and gripped his shoulder firmly. “I worry. Please.”

Kili reluctantly faced Fili. “I'm feeling fine. There's been nothing for weeks. In fact . . . I feel better than I have in a very long while.” A real smile lit his eyes.

“It's like the Elven magic is harmful for you.”

Kili's smile faded. “Mari made a joke about that too.”

“It wouldn't explain the rest of your life though,” Fili said with a lopsided smile and shook his head. “I'm relieved to hear you’re feeling better.”

Kili shrugged off his hand and reached for his trousers. “Can we stop talking about me and get on with the dragon-slaying plans?”

“I suggest breakfast first.”

With a scowl Kili stepped into his trousers, jumping momentarily on one foot as the other snagged in the leather.

“You won't be able to avoid Jorunn.”

“Watch me.” Kili struggled some more, jumping around on the floor to maintain his balance.

“Did you ever consider that her behaviour was because she was pressured by her family?”

“Not really, no. She and her sister have been like that for as long as I can remember.”

“Well, they are older than I am. A few years older than Gisla, if I remember correctly.”

“No excuse.”

“But don't you see? Consider this for a while. You hadn't turned forty-five when Jorunn came of age.”

Kili was reaching for his shirt but paused and looked up at Fili. “Jorunn must be around one-hundred years old then.”

Fili nodded. “About the same age as mam was when she married da.” Kili seemed to contemplate this as he slowly picked up his shirt.

“We don't actually know Jorunn and Ingunn. Their brothers, yes. Casually. And the family's political ambitions was hardly a topic to be discussed with _us_ ,” Fili said pointedly with a smirk.

Kili's eyes narrowed and he tilted his head. “Did either of them ask you?”

The smirk on Fili's lips disappeared and he turned his back on Kili, and started scrutinising the floor.

“Which one?” Kili pressed on.

The silence lasted for another few beats. Kili waited and watched Fili's stiff back.

“Ingunn. And it was clear it was hardly out of any warmer feelings. But I learned a lot about the sisters during that conversation.” Fili half-turned and looked over at Kili. “I had never seen her act and speak the way she did then. She was . . . quiet. There was none of that flirtatious falseness. The mask was off.”

Kili stared with unseeing eyes at the shirt in his hands he was picking at. “Why haven't you told me?”

“It made me uncomfortable because I understood the pressure she was under.” Fili sighed. “I didn't think there was a point in mentioning it. I had expected it for years and I always knew what my answer would be. She hasn't been the only one to ask either and none of them approached me for my own sake.” He frowned and turned to face Kili. “No one approached you?”

“I've not been of age that long,” Kili replied and stopped toying with the shirt.

“You're seventy-seven. You've been of age for twelve years. Surely someone must have . . . ?”

Kili's cheeks took on a decidedly more rosy character and the muscles in his jaw tensed.

“I got the impression that Jorunn had her eyes on you,” Fili added with a neutral voice.

“If she did, she never said anything.” Kili's reply was clipped.

“Did you actually listen to what she said?” When Kili didn't reply Fili nodded. “She did ask, didn't she? You just refused to take it for what it was.”

Kili's brow had been pulled into an impressive scowl and his breathing had turned more audible. Fili closed the distance between them, put his hand on Kili's neck and pulled him close, leaning their foreheads together.

“I doubt you wish to hear it, but I do think she has liked you all along. Your rudeness never repelled her. It only seemed to amuse her.” Fili smiled.

“You're correct. I did not want to hear that,” Kili said wryly.

Fili snorted. “No matter. We have other things to mind.”

Kili drew a deep breath. “Then let us mind them.” He drew back and met Fili's eyes. He smiled warmly and Kili returned it, reluctantly at first but it quickly grew into a wide grin putting back the spark in his eyes.

o.o.o

_The Iron Hills, July 2941 TA_

Mari carefully inspected the wind lance Gisla had just assembled in front of her. Instead of the unwieldy design used in Erebor and Dale, this looked more like the collapsible bastard child of a crossbow and the first generation of airplanes.

“May I try it?” She looked up at Gisla with a raised brow.

“Of course! It's why I sent for you!” Gisla grinned at her.

“And Kili?” Mari squatted behind the wind lance and lifted it, weighing it in her hand.

“He'll come by in a while. He was apparently busy buttering up some disgruntled Longbeards.”

With a small smirk she shot Gisla a glance. “He's good at it, isn't he?”

“It was always difficult to resist that smile,” Gisla replied knowingly.

“It's heavy.” Mari rose, pulled out the support leg, gripped the winch, and started turning it.

“Though not as heavy as it would have been if it had been made of wood.” Gisla watched Mari work with obvious strain, but she succeeded in pulling the string back and securing it.

“It takes quite the effort but is still surprisingly manageable.” Mari straightened and looked at the weapon.

“It's designed according to our general strength so I was a bit concerned you might struggle.”

Mari looked at Gisla and grinned. “It _was_ tough.”

“But you did it.”

“All that training must have some reward,” Mari shrugged, reached for the bolts, and picked one up. It was different from the ones the original wind lances had used. It was shorter and very sturdy, and in Mari's honest opinion it seemed a lot better suited for their task than the original design had been. This bolt would not wobble, which made its trajectory more controlled.

She loaded the wind lance and took aim and released the bolt. It pierced the target with great force. Mari put the wind lance back on its support leg and gave it another once-over, then moved to fold it up. She gripped it tightly and lifted it and though she struggled with the weight, she managed to get it off the ground and move it around a bit.

“I won't be able to handle one of these on my own unless it's an emergency,” Mari stated as she put it down and extracted the front support trestle.

“The plan is to have two manning these. A well-synchronised duo not only relocates this swiftly and with ease, but loads it that much quicker too.”

“It's about time to start training people then. Do you think the impact force will be enough?”

“Yes. While the old wind lances look impressive, the result is less so. A lot is gained with this design,” Gisla patted the frame holding the arms and spring chord bundles.

“It allows you to reach an even greater impact force without that unwieldy construction, not to mention that each piece is easily replaceable if it breaks. It doesn't require specific skill, like for instance the bow maker must have, to make the pieces and assemble them, either.”

“One could suspect it to be constructed with a dragon hunt in mind,” Mari commented lightly.

“Don't know what gives you that impression,” Gisla retorted with a grin.

Mari winched back the string and reached for another bolt. When she straightened and briefly looked up her eyes landed on Jorunn who was approaching.

Mari paused and watched her cross the training field to join them. She was quite striking in a way, Mari mused. On the surface there was nothing that set her apart like Gisla or Tauriel, who had colours that attracted the eye, and she was neither tall nor short, and her build was fairly standard for a Dwarf.

However, once you started looking, detail after detail stood out; her steely grey eyes were darker than most which put a spark in them, her nose was rounded and upturned, but small and neat, her lips were on the fuller side, and her rounded face had distinct cheekbones. While her hair colour was about the same sandy colour Ori had and straight, it was quite thick and had a shine to it that was a bit unusual. She had more meat on her bones than Gisla, which made her quite curvy, and she was an expert in emphasising this even when wearing a simple tunic and some sort of leggings, as she was at present.

Mari had quickly surmised that Jorunn was the kind of person who very rarely showed her true self, but had adapted completely to a world of intrigues, and she could see how Gisla, Fili, and Kili must have resented this aspect of her. However, Mari had quickly discovered that Fili seemed to have adopted a more nuanced approach, hinting that it in fact wasn't because of the announced wedding but that it was based on his insight into her personality.

Kili was still somewhat distant and short, but interestingly enough, Jorunn seemed to bear it well, only smirking at him. When he slipped and aimed some snide remarks with false cheerfulness her way, she laughed, and it was at him, as if his rude wittiness as such amused her.

Gisla was polite and proper, as was Ori, but there was no real friendliness in their behaviour. While it seemed like Jorunn shrugged it off, Mari's waitress sense told her it did sting. She herself was cautious and tried to straddle the fence for the time being. While she had a difficult time abiding people so obviously opportunistic, she could also see how useful a friendship with Jorunn was. Of all of the young women in Iron Hills Dain could have accepted the suit of, he had settled on the only one who had a relationship with them, and not an altogether bad one either.

“Good morning,” Jorunn greeted them and smiled. Mari and Gisla returned the greeting – Gisla with her usual bland politeness and Mari with more curiosity. Jorunn's attention was drawn to the wind lance and it was clear she was interested.

“I heard you had the finished prototype out here today.” She picked up a bolt and scrutinised it, then looked at Gisla. “It looks very much like a final version.”

“We will put it through some difficulties and prolonged use, but I expect only minor changes between this and the final one that will be put in production.” Gisla was rigid and tense, uncomfortable with Jorunn's interest.

Jorunn considered her for a moment. “You are aware that this could change things far beyond slaying a dragon, are you not?” she asked.

Gisla darted a look at the wind lance, her confusion clearly visible.

“If this proves to be as effective as it seems on paper, it will be put to use against other enemies.” Jorunn placed the bolt back among the others. “I have seen the drawings for the other weapon and I must say . . . If the charging issue is solved it would be a terrifying thing to aim at an enemy on a battlefield.” Her eyes went to Mari briefly. “You are one alarming duo. The weapons of death and destruction you can create, which we could use on anyone opposing us . . . ”

Mari closed her eyes and sighed. When she opened them Jorunn's eyes were trained on her.

“It's a very useful capability which I’m sure will be noted by more than me.”

“I'm not exactly thrilled by the prospect,” Mari replied coolly.

Jorunn nodded. “Fame can be a double-edged sword. In particular this kind of fame.”

Mari scowled. “I'd rather not be linked to weapons at all. I knew these ideas could be picked up and be put to use in the regular arsenal, but I hoped the general military conservatism would act as a safeguard.”

“Oh, don't expect them to be incorporated overnight.” The corners of Jorunn's mouth were pulled into a joyless smile. “I'm certainly not going to aid the stiffs in command with any ideas unless there's an actual need. Which there isn't.”

Gisla tilted her head and narrowed her gaze. “No?”

“What do you think this would be used for?” Jorunn asked.

“Killing.” Mari looked as grim as she sounded.

“Precisely. With the political upheaval I see coming, I would not want something like this in anyone's arsenal.” Jorunn's eyes was very sincere and piercing.

Gisla's eyes flashed in anger. “Your marriage puts you right in the middle of this.”

“Yes, it does,” Jorunn replied calmly. “We never saw eye to eye, I know this, but I’m determined to keep the powder keg from exploding, and if I know you as well as I think I do, your interests coincide with mine. For once.”

She drew a deep breath.

“I have come to ask something from you,” she continued. “I want you to be my handmaidens during the wedding celebrations.”

Mari darted a look at Gisla, who simply stared dumbfounded at Jorunn.

“I'm expected to have as many as possible, but I’m intent on keeping the numbers down. I certainly don't want a crowd surrounding me when I’m out of the public eye. My sister will obviously be one, but I’m hoping you will accept too. Three are enough for the private preparations and the others will only take part in the public spectacle.” The carefully controlled mask Jorunn always wore had a crack in it now, Mari noted with an odd detachment. If this was acted, Jorunn deserved an Oscar, but Mari suspected this was very real.

“It would be in your interest to use this as an opportunity to strengthen the bonds with those you'll be expected to lead,” Gisla said slowly.

“Not everything is politics Gisla. I want to be able to relax during the few moments of privacy I have during those days. We've not been friends as such, I know, but we know each other well. And if you accept no one can dispute my wish to keep my number of personal handmaids down. You are technically superiors.” Jorunn gave Mari a quick look. “No one would dare to demand that I should crowd you with people.”

“Maybe not everything is about politics, but it will have such implications.” An edge was gradually creeping into Gisla's voice.

“No matter what I choose to do it will have ramifications. If I didn't ask you . . . can you imagine the gossip? I snubbed the princess, the future queen.”

“And if I say no, I'd look like I snubbed you.”

“I'm not doing this to avoid such accusations and I hope you believe me when I say I my intent is not to put you in an awkward situation.”

“I have little choice but to accept.”

Jorunn winced.

“Is Dain your One?” Mari cut in.

Jorunn turned her head and looked at Mari, taken aback by the question.

“I don't want to offend you. I’m just curious.”

Hesitantly she shook her head. “No.”

“Then why are you marrying him?” Gisla asked cautiously.

“Why did you marry Thorin's heir?” Jorunn shot back.

“Because I realised he is my One.”

Jorunn cocked an eyebrow. “Excuse me if I don't quite believe you. All those years and you suddenly just realised one day?”

“No, it was not that simple. Not for me. For him? Yes.”

Jorunn dropped her jaw. “What?”

Mari smirked. “Long story short – Fili was never going to look at anyone else.”

Jorunn shook her head. “He never gave an indication and believe me, I did look for such interest.”

“Your efforts were wasted,” Gisla said dryly.

To their surprise Jorunn burst into laughter. “I didn't have my sight set on him.” She sobered and glanced at Mari. “My favourite was always Kili. No, I have no such emotions, but of the two brothers he was the one I could imagine spending a life time with.”

“And Dain?” Mari pressed on.

“Dain isn't a troll, and though I know exactly what he is, there are other sides to him few are allowed to see. I'll latch on to that. I trust it will turn out well.”

Mari eyed Jorunn sceptically. “What if, one day, you come face to face with your One then?”

Jorunn's eyes flickered away. “Then I'll have to turn my eyes elsewhere and stay away. As simple as that.”

“Not to rain on your parade, but that might be more difficult than you imagine.”

“I hear you have the gift to see the future,” Jorunn returned.

“What you have heard is wrong. I don't. No one can really know either.”

“But you know . . . things.”

Mari was stubbornly silent.

“Such knowledge is as dangerous as any weapon,” Jorunn suggested mildly.

“I accept the offer you have made, along with Gisla,” Mari said, steadily gazing at Jorunn who inclined her head.

“Thank you. It means a lot to me.” The pause that followed was awkward.

“I'll leave you to your work.” With a nod at Gisla and Mari, Jorunn departed.

o.o.o

_The Iron Hills, Onríptíd, August 2941 TA_

Mari would have preferred to keep more to the shadows, pulling back and staying as much out of sight as possible, but it was not to happen. Reluctantly she had crawled out of bed in the wee hours of the morning to dress up in clothes that had been delivered only days prior – garments like nothing she had worn before, in expensive fabrics, with furs, and her personal embroidery. Jewellery appeared from hidden spaces in the packs they had carried from the Shire; earrings, rings and hair adornments. The evening before she had stood staring at it all laid out on the bed, not quite able to take in that she was expected to wear these things.

In concentrated silence she and Gisla dressed and Gisla was given an elaborate hairdo. Mari had promptly refused such silliness when it had been suggested. She didn't mind wearing the clothes, but she drew a line at ridiculously complicated updo's. It was simply parted in the middle andgiven a knot high up at the back of her head, which kept her hair out of her face but allowed the rest to fall freely down at the back. The jewellery made in mithril and red stones put in her hair, ears, and around her neck reminded her of what she had seen in Bollywood films, and was a set that once had been Gisla's grandmother's.

“It's the least intricate piece I have,” Gisla told her when Mari winced at herself in the mirror.

“It's not that,” Mari replied. “I'm not used to wearing things like this and I’m too pale and mousy.”

“Pish. Nonsense. I chose it for you because the white mithril highlights fair hair and skin, and the red stones will shine particularly well on you. It's why the garments have the colours they have too. The light red and cream embroidery suits you.” Looking up at Mari through the mirror, she added dryly, “And you won't be able to hide either.” When Mari scowled Gisla chuckled.

“I know you want to, but it's about time you stepped out into the light. There is no better occasion to associate yourself with the entire family than now. I’m certain Jorunn planned it that way, or she wouldn't have included you.”

“But why?”

Gisla gave a pause. “She doesn't have any friends aside from her sister and I suspect that she's hoping that with us all settled, the reason for hostility is removed, which would allow us to become friends. I think she likes the idea of a larger family and in her rose-tinted fantasy I’m sure she's already planning lengthy family gatherings where our children can play together while we socialise, make excursions in the neighbourhood and play games.”

“You know, I think we have much to win by becoming friends with her,” Mari said thoughtfully. She met Gisla's eyes through the mirror. “She could become our Trojan horse on Team Dain.” Quickly she recounted the Greek myth.

“I know, and Fili has suggested the same thing.” Gisla paused. “I'll do my best.”

. . .

The ceremony dragged on as every minuscule, and in most cases archaic, detail was honoured. Mari tried not to think about what could possibly be in store for her down the line, but halfway through she grimly admitted to herself that it was likely that if she and Kili ever were allowed to marry, they would have to go through with something similar. It wouldn't do to hush it up if it was to be recognised by the community. Since Fili had married in relative quietness, Kili's wedding, if held in Erebor, would be seen as an opportunity to celebrate the restoration of the Durins in Erebor and the future. It simply could not be a small family affair.

She nearly threw up at the thought.

In the coming days little respite was to be had. The evenings were late and mornings early, and because she and Gisla were expected to be at Jorunn's side all the time, she barely had time to talk to Kili. He was asleep when she crashed into bed and only opened an eye when she got out again in the morning, going back to sleep the moment she left their room. She was heartily sick of it all long before they finally saw Dain and Jorunn off on the seventh day.

On the last day, after the official festivities were over, Mari quietly slipped outside the mountain to enjoy the fine summer's evening and some solitude. It was not late, but the dark nights had returned and the stars were blinking at her in the east while the last light lingered in the west. Tiredly she sat down in the grass by a large boulder, still warm, and listened to the silence while breathing in the late summer scents. She raised her eyes and studied the clear sky. On a whim she lay down on her back and continued to look at the stars hoping to catch a meteor burning up. Soon enough a bright streak hurried across the sky and she smiled.

“I wish . . . I wish we'll all live and can build a better world,” she whispered.

Her eyelids closed and she fell asleep.

…

She woke up as someone lifted her off the ground and instantly she drowsily fumbled after her knife which she realised, to her dismay, she had forgotten. A well-known voice stilled her.

“It's certainly fortunate I know you by now or I would have gone mad,” Kili said quietly. “Leave it to you to slip away and fall asleep outdoors. Unarmed.”

She relaxed and closed her eyes. “I didn't mean to fall asleep,” she replied.

He chuckled. “Remember last time? How tired you were?”

She yawned. “Mmm. You should stay out here for a while with me. There are a lot of shooting stars tonight.”

“You told me they were not stars.”

“They're not. They're rocks, burning up as they hit the atmosphere.”

He was quiet for a while. “Not tonight. If you wish we could leave for a couple of days. Just the two of us.”

“Sounds lovely,” she mumbled with a smile. “You don't think the others would mind?”

“You need some time to rest. We'll be back in time to pack up our things and make the last preparations before we leave.”

They both went silent and Mari had almost drifted back into sleep when Kili stopped. She blinked sleepily at the dark surroundings.

“Look up,” he said, and she did. Across the sky a wisp of green stretched.

“That's early,” she said. “I know what you think but I don't believe that it's a portent.”

“Tell me, what should Uncle be doing now?” Kili's voice was carefully neutral.

Mari was quiet for a while. “Entering Mirkwood. Or about to anyway.” She glanced at Kili. “You can put me down.” He responded by gripping her more tightly.

“Oh no. I have barely seen you the past week. I’m not letting you go now.” He grinned at her.

“I don't think it's just me who needs some time away from the mountain,” she said wryly.

“Whatever gave you that idea?”

With a wide smile she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and closed her eyes. “You're carrying me again,” she whispered.

o.o.o

_Dol Guldur, August 2941 TA_

“How did you end up here, in the army?” Tova asked, unable to hide her contempt. Even if Tova hadn't been dying to return to the village from whence she had been taken, Dol Guldur, Mirkwood, and the Orc army life was not what she had hoped for.

Shel didn't move, not even to glance at the girl. “Because I was left to choose between two evils. I couldn't imagine staying at home, chained not only to a task but to a location too. The same thing goes for Homraz. I think you can imagine Urzul's reason.”

Next to her a very tired Tova sighed. She had slept very poorly and with good reason. While most left her alone, it was noted that she was not an Orc and now and then there was unwanted attention aimed in her direction. The past months had worn hard on her; always on edge, always prepared to lash out and defend herself, and the poor food was tough on the young woman. Despite this she had done her duty well, caring for injured, wounded and sick and it had earned her a bit of a reputation. Most seemed to buy the story that she was a teenage boy, but Shel was certain there were those who weren't fooled. No one had yet challenged the disguise though.

She should be sent home, Shel thought. It was unlikely to happen though since they themselves couldn't take her, not to mention that though Bolg cared little for her as such, he did care about the fact that she kept people on their feet and able to fight. It was quite clear he would not let her go now.

Urzul came striding towards them with Homraz in tow and a thunderous look on her face, which had Tova and Shel glancing at each other. Tova's belly clenched as she watched Homraz, who looked unusually sullen, an indication if anything that something was brewing.

“There's been a change of plans. A large contingent of Elves has been discovered a week's march away from the forest, approaching from the south.” Urzul squatted before Shel and Tova, and Homraz joined her.

“Elves? Is it an army?” Shel asked and she didn't hide her disbelief.

“Oh yes. Like one we haven't seen in several hundred years. The witch herself is said to travel with it. What's worse, Rivendell Elves have been spotted among them.”

Tova's mouth had suddenly gone dry and she tried to swallow. This would mean battle. Very soon. It had been a slow few months where things gradually had been building up as troops had arrived, filling up the camp, getting ready for the march north, and she had held out hope she would be allowed to slip away once the order to march had been given. Not once had the idea entered her mind that she could find herself in an actual battle situation.

Next to her Shel swore in Black Speech. Urzul held up her hand, stilling Shel.

“We will not take part in meeting this threat however. I have been appointed to head north with a small troop to join the Gundabad army.”

Shel tilted her head. “It would be quicker to send birds.”

“But birds can't carry specific orders or hold strategy meetings.”

“I take it we're leaving as soon as possible?”

Urzul nodded.

“What about me?” Tova asked with a slight croak to her voice.

Urzul pulled a deep breath. “You are to stay. Bolg won't let you go now.”

Tova stared at Urzul for a moment and then she ducked her head.

“It brings me no joy telling you this,” Urzul added quietly.

Tova forced herself to nod, and scrambled to her feet. “I have work to do,” she mumbled, swirled around and hurriedly left the three Orcs.

She felt panic and despair and for a long while she numbly wandered through the camp, trying to think, but her thoughts were a jumbled mess. To try to get a grip of the situation she sought out the infirmary. Working always helped her to focus.

…

The good thing about the approaching army was that the camp was instantly up in arms, quite literally. Feverish activity broke out and the usual control was impossible to uphold when the most important thing was to make certain everyone was equipped to meet the foe coming their way and to be ready to march to meet it.

Dol Guldur was not the ideal place to fight a battle and Bolg had decided to meet the Elven army just outside Mirkwood. Orders to march were given immediately and as Urzul, Shel, and Homraz were preparing to head north, the rest of the army was readying itself for the march south-west.

Tova distanced herself from Urzul, Homraz, and Shel and kept out of their way while she prepared to march, not because she was angry or disappointed, but because she knew they would see through her and her secret plan.

Of course she had no intention of staying with Bolg's troops. A ridiculous idea. But she played the game, sorted her belongings, packed them up neatly, and when she could she pinched pieces of armour and weapons.

The most difficult item to procure was a decent helmet that would disguise her face as much as possible, but eventually she found a Goblin one that looked like a cross between Jason's mask and a deep sea fish. It was uncomfortable and she couldn't see much, but it would do the job of hiding her true identity, and that was the most important thing.

Long before dawn she was ready. She had dressed with care, making certain nothing could give her away. The boots she had found were a bit too large, but she had filled them up with rags and tied them tightly with strips of leather. The heat made gloves unpleasant, but she pulled them on regardless. She had to hide not only her face, but any visible skin, or she would be discovered.

When the camp stirred, she quietly added herself to the troop getting ready to head north, keeping her head down and staying at the back. Not once did she look around herself as they marched through the camp, heading the opposite way the army would take, though she did breathe easier when they had left Dol Guldur and its twisted bushland behind.

She continued to keep out of the way as they stopped to sleep. The longer she could keep her identity hidden the better were the chances she wouldn't be sent back, even if she doubted Urzul would do so by now. Settling some distance away, hidden behind a tree, she finally removed her helmet and gloves, sighing in relief. Though Mirkwood hardly offered a soothing woodland atmosphere she found it to be a paradise in comparison to the dirty, untidy and loud camp in and around Dol Guldur. It was so quiet.

She closed her eyes and smiled – and then stiffened at the unmistakeable sound of a bowstring. Her eyes flew open but she couldn't see anything nearby. In her chest her heart was hammering wildly, but she forced her breathing to be as calm and as quiet as possible and began scanning the surroundings. Her senses screamed at her that it had to be Elves nearby. She should sound the alarm, but if she did she was sure to be dead a second later.

It seemed to happen all at once. Arrows flew from the trees and undergrowth finding their targets with deadly precision. Tova sat completely frozen and listened to the screams and shouts for a few seconds, before coming to life and carefully slipping down on her belly on the forest floor, hidden by bracken.

Heavy feet came her way by the tree she had been sitting by, and as she glimpsed the form she knew it was Urzul. Tova's feet shot out and as Urzul fell and slammed hard into the ground, Tova's hands were instantly on Urzul's face, finding her mouth and pressing her palm over it. Urzul held her breath and stayed absolutely still, much to Tova's relief. She listened intently at the silence that now reigned, waiting for the inevitable Elven scouts. Time dragged on agonisingly slowly but after half a minute a shadow moved towards the camp, then another.

A melodic Elven voice called out and the surroundings came to life. A large band of Elves moved on, leaving them undetected in the darkness.

…

Tova dropped down next to Shel and her hand quickly found the pulse point on her throat. It wasn't strong, but it was there and Tova pulled a deep breath as she examined the arrow embedded in her friend. Shel had bled quite a bit, but not alarmingly much, and from what Tova could see it hadn't hit anything crucial and she should recover. In fact, Shel shouldn't even be unconscious. Tova looked up at Shel's face and met the other woman's eyes.

“You did a good job disguising yourself,” Shel said quietly, then smirked. “But don't think I didn't notice. You still have a bit of work to do on that Goblin stoop.”

Tova smiled. “Stay here. I'll look over the others.”

Shel groaned slightly and Tova looked up, finding Urzul nearby. “She's awake. You have some of that rotgut?” she asked, keeping her voice down.

Urzul strode over to them and pulled out a flask. Tova got on her feet and quickly scanned the surrounding bodies. There was no sign of Homraz and Tova frowned. She widened her search but couldn't find Homraz among the bodies in the camp, which was a relief since everyone she found was dead. Turning her attention to the trees around them, Tova wondered where she could be.

A subtle movement in the corner of her eye had her dropping to the ground but before she scrambled off to hide. Homraz coalesced from the dark woods around them. Uninjured. Her face was taunt though, and her eyes were on Shel as she pushed through the undergrowth in their direction.

Tova rose and waited for her. “She'll be fine,” Tova reassured as Homraz came close enough for a quiet conversation.

Homraz shifted focus and gazed down at Tova, revealing the guilt she was feeling. Tova reached out and gripped Homraz's arm, pressing it firmly.

“No one would have been helped if you hadn't gotten out of the way. She faked death, the only thing she could do after being hit like that. It worked. We're all alive.”

Homraz gave her a thin smile. “The question though is for how long. I heard them. The woods are crawling with Elves. The army openly coming from the south? Not the only one. Mirkwood's Elves have gathered what they can whip up and they're going to attack our people in the back. They will be squashed.”

Tova made a distressed sound and her eyes darted around, trying to penetrate the darkness. Homraz pulled away and joined Urzul on the ground, next to Shel. Tova followed and focussed on getting rid of the arrow and binding Shel's wound.

…

Rather than risk running into Elves, Urzul decided they were to stay where they were, patiently waiting for the Elves to pass them by.

“We should try to warn Bolg,” Homraz grumbled as Urzul informed them of her decision.

Urzul sighed. “We'd not reach them alive, and you know this. He'll have to handle it as best he can. He's the one with the army after all, and he has spies. They should alert him. We have orders and it's more important now that we make it north.”

She then turned to consider Tova. Just as Shel and Homraz weren't, she hadn't been fooled by the disguise Tova had adopted in order to slip out of the camp and Bolg's clutches. Of course she shouldn't have allowed it, but Tova did not belong among them and Urzul was secretly pleased that the girl had had enough courage and cunning to attempt to steal away the way she did, making it possible for Urzul, if not keep her promise to Widuc, to at least get the girl out of the way without actually breaking any orders.

However, now she needed to decide what to do with Tova. Unless they were to take a long detour, there really was only one place they could take her – Lake-Town. It was still a bit out of the way, but as they had lost the troop, they would be able to travel faster than she had planned on, so they would not lose time.

Tova raised her eyes and returned Urzul's look with apprehension. Part of Urzul would always be annoyed by that deer-like behaviour though she understood why it came out every so often. With time Tova had grown uncomfortably dear to her despite the apparent weaknesses. Not in the same way as Homraz and Shel, who were comrades in arms and like her own sisters, but rather as an adopted child. Tova was frail and Bolg was right about the fear that always seemed to cling to Men, but that was not all there was to her. The girl was smart and realistic, bordering on scrupulous when needed. An opportunist and a survivor. Urzul now found that she truly cared if Tova survived.

“ _Mimba_ ,” Urzul said, and noted the startled looks on Homraz's and Shel's faces, and smirked. “We'll take you to Lake-Town. I don't appreciate having to leave you, but if you are to survive, it's what I must do, and Lake-Town is the best option in this situation.”

Tova's fair eyes stared into Urzul's and she knew that Tova understood what she had just called her, though it might not be clear exactly what it signified in this context. Tova ducked her head and stared down at the ground.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. For a brief moment she dared another look at Urzul and mumbled a few words in a language Urzul had never heard before, even if it was strangely reminiscent of the language the Rohirrim spoke. Urzul did not need a translation to know that Tova had understood the implication of being called child by her.

Urzul drew a deep breath and smiled at Tova who returned it, and to Urzul's relief there was no cloying sentimentality there, just the quiet pleasure of acceptance. Shel reached out and pulled Tova to her side and gave her a wordless one armed squeeze while Homraz nodded approvingly at Urzul.

“Took you long enough,” Homraz hummed.

“It has to be said before it's too late,” Urzul replied dourly.

“It's not yet time to part,” Shel murmured, still holding Tova who was leaning her head against Shel's shoulder.

“Parting can come sooner than we expect.” Urzul sighed. “We should rest properly now. As soon as we can we must continue. I'll take first watch.”

Shel and Homraz nodded and they all started settle in for the night. To Urzul's surprise Tova rolled up like a cat in her blanket next to her where she sat, and for a long while she gazed at the still form lying so close they were touching. Hesitatingly she put her hand on the girl's shoulder and watched the flicker of a smile on her face and how she then slipped into sleep. Urzul did not remove her hand once Tova slept.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This and the two chapters after it, are the only chapters where the original work and this AU converge, though it will be very different; the adventures of Mirkwood.

_Mirkwood, August 2941 TA_

"Is it too much to ask for that these Dwarves don't immediately, on entering the forest, walk into a situation where we need to save them from certain death?" Tauriel huffed in exasperation, then shook her head angrily.

"You know what to do! Make certain none of the spiders escape or ambush you!" she called out and raised her horn to her lips, letting it sound, to alert all the guards in the area to the emergency.

She took a route that didn't immediately take her to the location where the Dwarves were about to be rescued, but which would assure her that there would be no ambush of the foul eight-legged creatures that had attacked the travellers. A familiar skitter alerted her to the presence of several spiders and she quickly pursued them as they headed towards the forest floor.

On her way down she dispatched two with her bow and then she gripped her knives, making her way towards the Dwarf doing a surprisingly decent job at keeping the spiders at bay, even if his inexperience with them caused him to misjudge them. One towered up behind him, unnoticed by the Dwarf, about to sting him while he was engaged by another arachnid.

Like it was a dance she whirled around and with a swift flick of her right hand she sent the knife flying. It hit perfectly and the spider about to skewer the Dwarf collapsed. She used the other knife to take down one creature coming at her, embedding it firmly in its head. Ripping out the blade she swirled around and let it find the last spider with another accurate throw, and it sank to the forest floor just before the Dwarf hit it with his sword. He let the momentum in the spin carry him around to face her, and for a fraction of a second they simply stared at each other.

"I had the situation under control!" he growled, scowling at her.

She smirked at him with the sense of triumph still surging through her veins. "Hardly," she replied coolly, which contrasted with the fire in her eyes and movements. With quick and efficient movements she went on to retrieve her knives.

"You were about to fall into the oldest trap these foul creatures use and with the rest of you either already trapped and unconscious or just about to be, you would have been lost." She stopped in front of him and gave him a once over. Taking in the general looks and the way he was dressed she concluded this had to be the infamous king-in-exile himself.

"A simple thank you would suffice," she said raising her chin slightly. His nostrils flared as he pulled a deep breath, and slowly he moved the sword in his hand in a vaguely threatening manner. Her lips quirked slightly. It amused her that he thought he'd have a chance to come close enough to cut her down, and she didn't hide it.

"I'm Tauriel, the captain of the Forest Guard in the Woodland Realm. We have been expecting you." She inclined her head. "I have orders to escort you on your journey through Mirkwood."

He straightened regally and to her dismay it seemed like the height advantage she had simply melted away. Being tall for a Dwarf was apparently a Durin family trait. Enhanced by the furs and elaborate garments he was wearing, he was massive, making her feel like a reed.

"Thorin Oakenshield," he paused for a moment and a glint of his teeth in a not-quite-grin told her he had noticed her discomfort with glee, "leader of the company." With measured movements he sheathed his sword.

"Good. With the pleasantries out of the way, we should find your companions. We must leave as soon as possible as this place is unsafe," she declared matter-of-factly, turned on her heel, and began leading the way to the others. She made it a point not to acknowledge the fact that he followed her, stomping through the underbrush after a few seconds of hesitation.

As she had expected, the Dwarves were all back on their feet, and when she and the king-in-exile joined them they were huddled in a tight formation, glaring at the Elves surrounding them. Tauriel made the same introduction to the gathered group as she had to Thorin. A couple of them held a mute conference with their leader, using the hand signs she had noticed Fili and Kili using when they had thought she wasn't looking. Clearly unhappy they went back to glowering at her with suspicion, but they seemed to accept the situation.

"Where are you taking us?" Thorin said out loud, not quite looking at her.

She refrained from sneering, as she understood that the question was for the gathered group and not because he was unintelligent or hard of hearing. "We must find a suitable place to set up camp before nightfall, as far away from that location as we can. It is unsafe to stay here as these spiders tend to retaliate. We need to stay vigilant. All of us," she explained patiently, allowing her eyes to wander from Dwarf to Dwarf.

"And then?" The king-in-exile finally looked straight at her with an icy cold look in his eyes.

She kept her attention on the huddled group of Dwarves. "As I mentioned, I have orders to take you through Mirkwood. I have made a promise to see to it to the best of my ability." Pausing for a beat to let the words sink in, she then turned her head enough to give Thorin a direct look. "That promise was made to your nephews, Fili, and Kili. We must move."

Without waiting for any reaction from the hostile group, she issued her orders. She shot Thorin a challenging glare as she strode past him, then gave in to what she knew to be a childish need to show just how out of place they were by launching herself up in the trees surrounding them, with all the agility and grace these mountain-dwellers never would possess.

. . .

As camp was being set up, Tauriel dug out the letters she had carried the past months, and as she pulled them from the safety of her satchel, a ghost of a smile lit up her eyes and quirked her lips. Glancing up she noticed she was being watched by the Dwarves who found themselves without much else to do than accept inactivity, since the Elves had made it clear they were in charge and would oversee everything from now on.

Some of them took this better than others and went on to make themselves as comfortable as they could. Thorin held another conference with the equally large bald Dwarf, looking more like a bandit to Tauriel than someone who had a king's confidence. With them stood a white-bearded short male who didn't exactly look pleased, but at least hid his discomfort under a diplomatic surface.

Holding back a grimace, she recognised that she hadn't exactly done her best to minimise the hostility between the two groups. She had once more let her temper run off with her and she could not allow this to continue.

Rising to her feet with the letters in a firm grip, she approached the Dwarves. Conversations died down and their attention turned to her as she came to stand in front of them.

"I have been entrusted to carry messages to three of you," she said quietly. "Dori," she announced and held out one of the envelopes, looking around to see who this Dori was. A steel-haired Dwarf with intricate braids stepped forth and picked it out of her hand, looked at it and smiled.

"It's Ori," Dori declared to the one with a hairdo as ridiculous as his own braids were complicated, who had been trailing behind.

"Well go on! Open it!" Ridiculous Hairdo urged and Dori quickly tore it open.

Tauriel looked down at the small pile and shuffled around in it, gathering several letters. "Dwalin." She held three of them in her hand. Calmly, if stiffly, Dwalin stepped forward and liberated them from her. He threw a glance at the letters and a gentle light seemed to soften his brow as he looked at the penmanship, then retreated with them in a firm grip, finding a spot where he could read in relative peace.

She turned towards Thorin and held out the remaining ones without a word. He studied the letters and then raised his icy blue eyes to meet hers. Unhurriedly he walked over to her and picked them out of her hand.

"Now tell me, Captain, what is your game?" he asked gruffly, not bothering to hide his hostility.

Tauriel felt the weight of the long day she'd had, her tired feet, the hot and humid weather which always was unpleasant when keeping a steady pace, relentlessly pushing onwards, the annoyance she felt in dealing with the suspicious Dwarves, and hunger gnawing in her stomach.

"There is no game," she replied, unable to keep weariness out of her voice. "I'm simply doing what is asked of me."

"Why?" he demanded, stepping even closer.

For a moment she clenched her hands into fists. Insufferable Dwarf, she thought. "Is it so unfathomable that I should obey my king's commands? My Lord Thranduil was asked to provide for your safe passage and I'm here to oversee it."

"Thranduil does not _provide_." Thorin nearly hissed the words.

She inclined her head slightly. There was truth in those words after all. "In any normal situation, no. However, when the rulers of Lothlorien are asking, it's something else entirely." A smile was evident in her voice.

Thorin scrutinised her. "Why would," he paused, clearly searching for words, "those High Elf rulers involve themselves?"

Tauriel sobered. "There are threats to us all in Middle Earth that are stirring."

"Something I presume _she_ knows something about." Digging around among the letters he found one which visibly had a different kind handwriting compared to the others. Tauriel studied the handwriting, recognising it as Mari's, and then turned back to Thorin.

"Yes." She drew a deep breath, steeling herself for a barrage of questions, but they never came. Thorin's eyes dipped to the letters in his hand to truly look at them and she saw the same transformation steal over his features as she had seen on Dwalin.

"I'll leave you to your reading," she said and started to turn away.

"For how long have you been carrying these?" he asked.

She stopped in her tracks and stood for a couple of heartbeats with her back turned on him before she shifted her head and revealed her profile, though she didn't actually glance his way. "Since spring," she replied.

"They befriended you?" There was a hint of reluctant curiosity in his voice that made her shift slightly to look back at him.

"Fili might not admit to having become friends with me – I suspect he'd say we're acquainted, nothing more – but in essence, yes," she said wryly.

Amusement creased the corners of his eyes, much to her surprise. "Thank you," he said quietly, and she had to hold back a frown at the sudden shift from hostility to quiet gratitude. She scrutinised him for a beat and then nodded, allowing herself to feel relief.

"You're welcome," she replied, then resumed walking.

o.o.o

Tauriel's laughter startled Thorin and Dwalin, who looked up and turned their eyes towards where she was sitting, across the camp from them. She was seated by the fire with Bilbo, Bofur, and Bombur, and something they had said had made her laugh in the most unexpected manner. It even turned the heads of some of her fellow Elves.

Dwalin grunted and Thorin threw him an amused glance. "Never thought you'd hear one of them laugh, did you?" he asked.

"Is it just her, or are these ones all capable of laughing?" Dwalin groused.

Thorin and Balin chortled. "Remember brother, she's Silvan. They are not like the humour-less snotty ones in Rivendell," Balin said.

Dwalin snorted. "I'm still wary."

Thorin shrugged but didn't add anything. He stole a glance in Tauriel's direction, contemplating what the letters had told him about her. For nearly a week he had been mentally chewing on what he had learned and compared it with the person he had to deal with on a daily basis.

Fili had been the most guarded, but even he had admitted he held some regard for her. Kili apparently had no reservations at all. According to him she was intelligent, had a good heart, was honest and even had a sense of humour, which wasn't too hard to believe after hearing her laugh. Similar opinions had been aired in the other letters, even if Mari's had been the least eloquent. She had kept it quite short and to the point, urging him to not antagonise the Elven captain.

Reading between the lines, he could sense that Mari again knew something important and that this Elf somehow played a part in that. Elves, he sneered to himself, but he couldn't quite find the old anger. He wasn't insensitive to Mari's plea, which was echoed by the others, even Fili, after all.

"What makes me even more wary is tha way ye keep watching her." Dwalin gave Thorin a pointed look.

Thorin sighed and turned his eyes to his hands and he absently began worrying the plain silvery band on his finger. "It's the letters," he said. "Especially Mari's letter. She doesn't tell me anything specific, as usual, but I can tell that whatever it is, it's important."

Dwalin arched his eyebrows. "Is that so?" Thorin darted an incredulous look at his friend. "She was fairly blunt with me," Dwalin added as he leaned back against the tree trunk behind him, lacing his fingers over his belly.

With a shake of his head, Thorin snorted. "How do you do it?"

"It helps ta be blunt yerself," Dwalin grinned.

"Flowering diplomacy isn't exactly what I'm known for," Thorin replied sourly.

"No, but ye're king. And ye hold her future in yer hands." There was no reproach or judgement in his words, simply a statement of things, such as they were.

Thorin nodded in agreement. "So what did she tell you then?"

"Things that won't happen, that has been changed by her presence here," Dwalin said calmly, squinted his eyes and scanned the canopy above them.

With a huff Thorin let go of the ring and picked up his pocket knife instead and began cleaning his nails. "So why the secrecy then?"

"Since it's not going ta happen, there's little point in repeating it, is there?" Dwalin continued to scan the vicinity.

Thorin narrowed his eyes suspiciously at his long-time friend. "Your evasiveness makes _me_ wary."

Dwalin winced and then sighed. "Her fate was linked to . . . a specific person."

"Who?" Thorin demanded.

Dwalin hesitated and then scowled. "Kili." His reply was blunt and Thorin arched an eyebrow at him.

"Explain," he said shortly, reeling from suspicion and with Kili's words echoing through his mind.

Dwalin silently studied Thorin for a moment.

"The Elf lass kept Kee from dying before reaching the mountain. Kept him and Fee safe. She even challenged Thranduil on this. Disobeyed his orders and aimed her bow at him." Dwalin dipped his eyes to his hands resting on his belly. "In the end it was all for naught that she risked so much, including her own life."

Thorin turned his head and stared at the Elven captain. "Why? What could ever persuade an Elf to act in such a way?" Disbelief and anger warred with each other. He couldn't believe such a thing to be possible. An Elf saving his nephew's life? Aiding them? Challenging her king? Preposterous!

"Mari would not say," Dwalin replied quietly. "She can probably give you the answer you seek though." He nodded at Tauriel.

Thorin retracted his open stare and turned it at the ground in front of him. No, he didn't really want to know her reasons, he decided. Not at all.

. . .

"They did what?" Tauriel asked incredulously.

"The only things served were greens – vegetables of various kinds," Bilbo explained with a small smile. "I certainly didn't complain, but not everyone was pleased with such a fare. This lot likes their meat after all and everyone suspected they'd have to go without their entire stay in Rivendell."

Tauriel stared at him. "But . . . meat is never lacking in Imladris."

"No, as we found out later, that's correct." Bilbo's smile widened.

"We found the pantry and ransacked it. Everything gone. Carried to our quarters. You should have seen the look on their faces," Bofur interjected and laughed. "And then we made the fountain a splash pool. It got a bit hot one day, you see."

To Bilbo and Bofur's surprise Tauriel burst into a hearty laughter, drawing everyone's attention. It took her a minute to regain enough composure to speak again.

"I shouldn't laugh, but I must say, you certainly paid them back for that supper," she said and mirth was still dancing in her eyes.

Bofur looked livened up. "Are you certain you're an Elf, lass?"

Tauriel smirked. "Absolutely certain."

"You just seem a bit different from the lot in Rivendell," Bofur continued to prod.

"There are several reasons for that," she replied evasively. To her surprise neither Bofur nor Bilbo pressed the issue, only nodded. "It's not a simple thing to explain and I need some proper time."

Bilbo smiled encouragingly at her. "Speaking of time, how long will this journey through Mirkwood take?" he asked.

"On foot, the way you move? Weeks," she replied.

The faces around her fell. "Weeks?" Bofur squeaked.

"Why yes. This is a large forest."

Bilbo and Bofur glanced at each other. "Then we have a problem," Bofur said.

"What kind of problem?" Tauriel asked warily.

"We don't have supplies to last us through such a long journey. We're running low already." Bofur sent Bombur a long look, who returned it with a worried frown on his face.

She sighed. "First we needed to save you from certain death by spiders and now you tell me you would have starved to death too without our aid?" She threw a glare in Thorin's direction. "Not a very well planned journey, if you ask me."

Bofur bowed his head with red cheeks and Bilbo winced. "We lost a lot of what we were carrying with us in the Misty Mountains and with it, the kind of provisions that are useful in such a place as this," Bilbo explained. "You see, we came across the Goblins . . . " he began and continued to tell her about their mishaps in the mountains.

"It would have been useful to know," she said gently once he was finished. It wasn't the Hobbit's fault this had been kept from her after all. "You will not starve, that I can assure you." With a smile she stood. "I must speak with your king, though, and come to some agreement on this." Her smile turned frosty, and as she looked over at the trio on the other side of the camp she didn't hide her annoyance.

Bofur leaned over towards Bilbo as Tauriel had walked off. "This'll be interesting to watch."

"How so?" Bilbo replied and looked at the captain as she picked her way through the camp.

"An Elf with a sense of humour and a temper? Competent and not one to allow anyone to treat her poorly? Thorin's worst nightmare. He could end up liking her, you know." Bofur grinned widely.

Bilbo shook his head. "He changed his opinion about me. I hope he does about the captain too."

Bofur's smile faded. "In truth? So do I," he said quietly.

. . .

"She's coming in this direction," Dwalin hissed in the corner of his mouth and despite himself, Thorin darted a glance in Tauriel's direction. She was indeed approaching, and if he wasn't mistaken, she was displeased about something.

"Aye, and I fear a storm is approaching," Balin murmured, having picked up on the captain's mood too.

They glanced at each other before Thorin slowly turned to face Tauriel. She came to a halt and nodded at Balin and Dwalin before turning her grave eyes on Thorin. A hint of discomfort ran up his spine. Her eyes reminded him of his grandmother's disapproving looks, but then he remembered that he was no longer a boy, but a seasoned warrior and a king. This Elf was not going to succeed in intimidating him.

"We must speak about the supply situation," she opened, with a carefully neutral voice but without any ceremony.

Thorin raised an eyebrow at her and then nodded at Dwalin and Balin, who slowly rose and left. "What of it?" he asked as they sauntered off to the others by the fire, becoming increasingly annoyed as she remained standing, looking down at him. He got the distinct feeling she didn't stand out of any respect but rather to look and talk down at him.

A smirk fought to curve the corners of his mouth, but he managed to quell it. He had immediately noticed that even if she drew herself up to her full height, the difference between them was not large enough for her to exercise the usual Elven superiority. It irked her that in the physical competition, he was the winner due to his Dwarven constitution, even if he was a few inches too short to be on the same eye-level. It was immature, but he relished in it.

"I have learned that you lack means to travel through the forest without some aid. Unless you plan on starving, of course. After you have crossed the forest you still have a long journey ahead as well." Something of the sternness leaked out of her frame. "It would have been useful to know this. You must see-"

"We will not beg for scraps," he ground out, cutting her off.

She arched her eyebrows. "You would not need to beg. And we would hardly offer scraps. I have no intention of acting in the snippy fashion of affronted High Elves," she snapped.

He eyed her carefully. So the Rivendell story had already reached her ears. His eyes drifted to Bofur. Of course the miner would tell her about their visit there.

"I understand dignity, Thorin Oakenshield. I may not always think there's much point to it, but I understand why you'd like to retain it," she continued.

He felt like a fool, and it angered him. She was absolutely right while he was wrong, and he detested being wrong, in particular when an Elf was right.

Tauriel was still standing in front of him, watching him, but not with hostility, waiting for his response. He was sick and tired of being looked down on too, he decided.

"Would you please sit?" he said quietly, vaguely motioning at the spots where Balin and Dwalin had been sitting.

With the usual annoying Elven agility, she sank down just out of arm's length, which brought a small smile to his lips. Prudence was a virtue, and she had learned that lesson. Her caution tempered his anger slightly.

"I heard you lost many of your possessions and all the provisions in the mountains," she said, breaking into his train of thoughts.

His brow darkened. "That we did. We were aided to come this far by Beorn." He looked for recognition in her face and she gave him a slight nod. She knew of the skin changer. "But I knew it would be a difficult journey. I was hoping we would be able to rest and recuperate in Lake-Town eventually."

"That option is still viable. But you needn't starve. We cannot feast every night, but you won't go hungry." Her annoyance was entirely gone and she spoke in earnest, chipping away at his anger with her apparent concern.

"I suppose you mean to feed us that bread of yours," he retorted with a smirk.

Her eyes twinkled and her cheeks rounded in a not-quite smile. "For the most part, yes. It is what we ourselves live on and I'd not treat you any differently than my own."

"Is that so," he rumbled, still smirking. Lembas bread was not a favourite of his, but they could do worse. He drew a deep breath and relaxed his shoulders. Finally he could admit that the shortage of food had been weighing on his mind quite a lot, and it was a relief to know they wouldn't have to sleep on empty stomachs and suffer thirst.

"Is there anything else I need to know? Something that would delay or hinder us in any way?" she asked and there was a slight edge to her voice. "I don't appreciate surprises."

With his feathers ruffled again, Thorin glowered at her. "Not as far as I know."

She tilted her head slightly, peering at him. "No one on your heels?"

Despite his annoyance he snorted. "Do you think we make enemies where ever we go?"

Tauriel shrugged lightly.

"You do, don't you?" His face darkened.

"I'd assume Orcs and Goblins could hold some resentment towards you after what happened in the mountains, enough to follow you here."

"If they do, we haven't seen anything of it," he replied curtly.

She nodded. "Good. However, you should be aware that I expect attacks."

"Fair enough." He couldn't fault her for being careful, and she was honest enough to tell them.

A small smile curved the corners of her mouth, for no apparent reason. Well, not for the usual Elven reason anyway; there was no arrogance to it. She was entirely too sympathetic for his taste, and he didn't want her to be agreeable in the least.

"Where were you when Smaug came to the mountain?" he suddenly asked. Tauriel stiffened and the look she threw at him was oddly emotional. "I know you lived then. You are quite many hundreds of years old by now. Younger than the prince, but not by that much. So, where were you?"

The stiffness subsided but the odd look in her eyes stayed. "Just coming home from a lengthy stay in Lothlorien. I have not always been in Mirkwood, though it's my home," she replied. "I was called into service afterwards . . . ." She went quiet and her eyes found the forest floor in front of her.

"And you saw the refugees being turned away," Thorin concluded.

She sighed heavily and there seemed to be a moment of hesitation before she answered him.

"I did." Her reply was simple and it revealed that there was a tale there. She raised her eyes and gazed at him. "I suppose it was a ludicrous idea, that I somehow could avoid speaking about those days. There's always a defining moment that will stay with someone forever, shaping their life and opinions, and Smaug is yours."

He raised an eyebrow. "I take it you have one too?"

She smiled thinly. "I do. We share more than you may think," she replied.

Again the sense of resistance reared its head. He suspected what her defining moment was tied to and didn't want to hear anything about it. If he was correct in his assumptions, it would give one very good reason for the actions Mari had told Dwalin about.

He preferred the Elves to be arrogant bastards he could resent, and though one individual didn't mean he had to revise his general opinion, it was an uncomfortable reminder that there could be more Elves like her. One decent Elf was one too many as it was.

He glanced over at Balin and Dwalin, now sitting by Gloin and Oin, all four pretending they were not keeping an eye on him and the Elven captain.

"I suppose they were present when the dragon descended on the mountain." Tauriel's voice was even and kept low. A quick look at her confirmed that she had followed his line of sight.

"Balin, yes. Oin, Gloin and Dwalin were all born after."

"So it was only you and Balin who saw the destruction?" She turned back to him.

He nodded slowly. "We were on the rampart as the attack began."

The memories hit him and as if it had happened only yesterday, he could feel the heat and hear the roaring sound from the dragon. A touch to his elbow made him jerk and his hand flew to his sword, before he remembered where he was. His eyes found the offender touching him and he relaxed, letting go of the hilt.

"I'm sorry," Tauriel said calmly as she withdrew her hand.

He nodded, slightly thrown by her compassion.

"I'll discuss the food situation with Bombur too. If there's nothing else?" She looked at him askance but he shook his head. He wanted her gone from his sight. Now.

She rose, striding off ever vigilant, as was her habit.

That was the truly good part about having to travel with the Elves, the heightened security. Tauriel had frankly declared she was not going to hand over such important things as security detail to any Dwarves, and though there had been some grumbling, not least on his part, he had to admit it was not so bad being allowed to sleep full nights. The others seemed to have come to the same conclusion.

Dwalin came stomping back to reclaim his seat and scowled as he sat down. Thorin spared him a cursory glance.

"Spit it out," he said when Dwalin didn't immediately speak up.

Glaring under his brow, Dwalin finally opened his mouth. "You know what it looks like, having conversations with the Elven captain like that. Everyone can see you but we're not allowed to listen."

"I prefer to hear what she has to say without an audience. Forgive my vanity, but having her chiding me like my grandmother once did, in public, is not something I'm comfortable with." He couldn't hold back a smirk.

Dwalin looked thunderous. "That little chit had the audacity to chide you?" he growled.

Thorin waved discouragingly at Dwalin, who was searching for Tauriel with his steely gaze.

"That 'little chit' is much older than I am, and she has a point. We were ill-prepared for crossing the forest." He sighed. "We have my nephews to thank for many things. This leg of the journey would have been very difficult without the aid from the Elves."

Dwalin grunted and eyed Thorin. "Nephews maybe, but Mari more," he said. "She knew . . . "

Thorin stared down at his hands. Dwalin was right, he knew this. He owed her much, but instead of gratefulness, all he could feel was a rising anger. She acted completely on her own accord, dragging his nephews with her, and he could do nothing about it. They had disappeared to the south under the pretence of picking up their usual summer occupation and when he realised what they were up to, it had been too late. Much too late. He was left reaping what they had sown, and it grated on him.

"It is late," Thorin murmured and rose, heading over to his bedroll. He was slowly losing his handle on his temper which was disturbing. Better to sleep, hoping the anger would sink back over night, he reasoned. He needed his mind cool and collected.

o.o.o

Comfortably propped up against a large root, Thorin was whittling away on piece of wood that he intended to turn into a spoon. It was quick work; using a hot piece of coal and his simple pocket knife, it would only take him half an hour. It was as much patience as he had to spare right now it seemed.

The forest ate at him. Frayed his nerves. His temper grew shorter and shorter and he had to work hard on containing it. People were annoying, especially those he was close to and he often wished for solitude to regain his composure. This was nothing new, but he usually did not feel this way towards Dwalin or Balin, and the Fundin brothers were slowly wearing on him.

The main cause to this fractioning was Tauriel. Thorin could clearly see that she was trying to be civil. At least once a day she came by and discussed various practical issues with him and he could hardly fault her for doing so. In fact, he appreciated it. Knowing about her promise to his nephews, he could see the effort for what it was.

Dwalin and Balin on the other hand did not take it well as she mostly sought him out when neither of the brothers were near. It wasn't too difficult to see why she chose to discuss matters with him alone. He was the company leader after all, and while most issues hardly were confidential in their nature, he could clearly see the appeal in having to face only one disgruntled Dwarf instead of three.

Balin bored him to tears with his lectures and Dwalin made him furious with his passive aggressiveness. It had gone so far that he could hardly find any time for himself, not even when he needed to seek out the latrine they dug every evening, though there he had put his foot down.

After two weeks of this he was praying for strength to endure the situation. They were not even halfway through Mirkwood yet and the thought of three, perhaps four, more weeks of this made him despair. Familiar footfalls made him look up. Balin smiled at him and gave him a nod, which Thorin returned. He quelled a sigh and continued working on the spoon, deliberately slowing down his work, aiming all his focus on it.

Only minutes later another set of steps, much quieter, stilled his knife. Polite and stiff greetings were exchanged between Balin and the Elven captain and with a deep breath he steeled himself before looking up. Tauriel was taking a seat and then turned her eyes on him with a hint of expectancy that amused him.

"Good evening, Captain," he said politely. She graciously inclined her head while her eyes reluctantly were drawn to the almost-finished spoon and knife in his hands.

"I broke the one I had," he explained, and then winced inwardly. It sounded too much like an apology.

"Broke it? How does one break a spoon?" she asked with a slightly raised brow.

"One accidentally sits on it," he grumbled, glad for the beard he had which hid most of his embarrassment.

The expression on her face didn't alter, but somehow it still looked like she was snickering. She ducked her head momentarily as to compose herself but her eyes still twinkled with amusement when she looked up again.

"Since the spiders have held off and there have been very few incidents and injuries, we've kept a good pace. In a few days we'll be halfway through the forest," she declared.

"Well, that's good news, is it not Thorin?" Balin said with something of his usual joviality, which had been quite lost for days.

He forced a smile on his face and nodded. "Indeed it is," he agreed, containing a wince at the stiffness of the conversation.

"I don't recall the spiders being an issue before. When did they appear?" Balin asked, apparently trying to make a conversation.

"It has been a growing problem, along with the general decay of the forest. It's not until quite recently it has become a significant problem this far north, though," Tauriel replied.

Balin nodded and then tilted his head. "If you don't mind me asking, for how long have you been a member of the guard?"

Thorin smirked at Balin's veiled attempt at finding out how old Tauriel was without actually asking.

"Not long. Not even two centuries. I received most of my education and training in Lothlorien."

Thorin and Balin exchanged glances. "But you are a native of Mirkwood, are you not?" Balin leaned slightly forward.

"I am," she confirmed. "Normally I would not have left my home but certain circumstances changed my life and put me as a charge in my Lord Thranduil's care. Once I had grown up the decision was made to give me the opportunity to study and work under the best conditions available. I spent many years in that realm."

"And how did you find your time away from home?" Balin asked politely. Thorin didn't think the older Fundin brother really was interested, but it could possibly lead to information they were more interested in.

"Lothlorien is a marvellous place in this world, and for a long time I did not ask what happened beyond its borders. It's a sliver of Valinor here in Middle Earth, and I was happy. Happier than I had been for most of my life." She smiled but it was not a joyous one.

"I suppose you find the magic present in these places uncomfortable, but to me Lothlorien was . . . " Her eyes found their way upwards searching for something, and Thorin was reminded of what Mari sometimes looked like as her mind wandered to the positive moments in the future, the distant look in her eyes and a light which seemed to come from within. "Hope," she finally said.

"I'd not say uncomfortable," Balin replied reluctantly. "We are unused to it and we are in general not very susceptible to it, but when we are, it's usually the unpleasant kind. Therefore we tend to be cautious if we come across magic, no matter the origin."

Tauriel smiled. "Yes, it's what Kili and Ori told me as well."

"You spoke a lot with my nephew," Thorin commented, trying to sound casual.

"I did, yes." She threw him a sly glance. "He's particularly gifted at charming people into talking, often ending up revealing a lot more than they ever planned to."

Thorin paused at her words and glanced at Balin who looked amused. He had never thought about Kili's social skills in that manner before, because he had always thought of Kili as guileless. He'd had to revise that opinion lately for known reasons, and the revelation that his nephew could even lie convincingly paired with the charm and natural talent for small talk was like a weapon waiting to be used.

With a pang in his chest, he realised that he now saw Kili as truly grown up. They all were but Kili had for a long time still been a boy in Thorin's mind. As he looked up Tauriel's eyes darted away, and he scowled at her. He detested the Elven sight and how they never asked before they turned it at someone.

"Are you watching me?" he groused.

Her eyes met his for a brief moment again and he could hardly miss the dry merriment in them.

"It behoves me to watch you and if at all possible, save you from yourselves," she sniffed.

Involuntarily the corners of his mouth pulled upwards too and before he knew it he chuckled. "Careful. You may end up learning something useful for once."

An amused sound, somewhere between a cough and a snort came from her before she schooled her features, though the mirth still danced in her eyes.

"I'm as suitable for the forges of Erebor as as you are for life in Mirkwood. But we could come to an agreement. If you allow us to lead and teach you about how to survive this forest, you can return the favour later, and I promise to be exactly as good a student as you were here."

He burst into laughter and Balin joined in. "Challenge accepted," he replied with a grin that exposed his competitive nature. Tauriel smirked knowingly at him, and though Thorin was aware that he was being led by the proverbial nose ring at that moment, it didn't bother him as much as it probably should. He was confident he'd come out on top of this verbal banter eventually. No Elf would get the better of him, female charms and red hair non-withstanding.

"Was that wise?" Balin asked later, as Tauriel left to take a turn around the outer perimeter of the camp. "Familiarity is not without dangers." He watched Thorin with concern.

"She can search my heart and mind, right now at this very moment. If that isn't familiarity, I don't know what is." He sighed.

A pause stretched between them as Balin continued to study the king. Eventually Thorin smiled slightly and met Balin's eyes. "It's a challenge that means nothing, a mere jest. A cause for reminiscence later on I'm sure, but that's all there will be to it."

"Still Thorin. Being cautious . . . " Balin's voice tapered off.

Thorin nodded, still smiling. "Something I have struggled with every day the past century. I usually don't find it difficult to be cautious when it comes to Elves, so take courage my friend."

"But this one is honest and not without a measure of compassion," the adviser said with a slight heat in his voice, stemming from concern.

Thorin arched his eyebrows at Balin. "You're giving her praise?"

"It's the truth. It's what makes her so dangerous. Thranduil could not have picked a better weapon."

With a glance at the Elves, he contemplated Balin's words. "If he's counting on her for his own purposes, he may be in for a surprise."

Balin gave him a long look but he shrugged. "You know what Mari wrote." A mischievous grin stole over his features. "And whatever twist Thranduil hopes to gain out of this will be hampered by whatever the witch in Lorien dictates."

The king in exile went on to tell his long-time adviser what Tauriel had revealed earlier, and not without some delight Thorin watched Balin's jaw drop.

"So in reality we are dealing with the High Elves in Lorien, not Thranduil?" Balin looked uncomfortable.

"Have the Elves bicker among themselves. As long as it takes us where we need to go and take back what's ours, I care not."

"But it raises the question though; what's so important that the Elves of Lorien are stirring? There are not many things in this world that makes them even passively support us." Balin's eyes were sharp, and demanded consideration from the king. "It's too late now, but I wish you had brought Miss Mari to Ered Luin. There are so many questions I have that she could have answered." The old adviser shook his head wistfully.

Thorin felt chastised though there was no hint of it in Balin's words or demeanour, and he lowered his gaze to look at the ring that had been passed to him. His fingers absently went to it and he slowly fingered it, rotating it without taking it off.

"Neither I nor Dwalin thought it a particularly good idea," he murmured, slightly defensively.

Balin sighed deeply. "No, I dare say you were correct." He smiled slightly. "I'm looking forward to meeting her eventually though."

An almost reluctant smile tugged at Thorin's lips. "She has some influential advocates on her side."

"And are you counting yourself among them?"

The smile fell from the king's face as he debated what he should tell his long-time friend. Balin nodded knowingly with a twinkle in his eye.

"It's all about timing, Thorin. I'm positive we shall find it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for my absence. I know it's been 45 days since the last chapter and I didn't plan on it, but my health has been rapidly declining the past months and just trying to function is a daily struggle. 
> 
> Thank you for your patience.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mirkwood journey continues.

_Mirkwood, September 2941 TA_

Escaping the watchful Fundin brothers seemed an impossible task in the following days. Thorin could not find a single moment without one or both shadowing him, but a respite finally came unexpectedly in the form of Bofur and Nori who pulled them into a game of dice.

Thorin kept to the shadows, well out of their sight, but he couldn't find the peace of mind he so craved. He couldn't concentrate on anything, not even doing some mending. Frustrated, he scrubbed his face with his hands, hung his head for a while before pulling himself up again, sweeping his eyes over the camp.

At the far end of the camp he caught sight of red hair and he followed the owner of the long fiery tresses as she moved through the camp, eventually ending up seated by the fire, having a hushed conversation with Bilbo. She had a particular gentleness with the Hobbit and a small smile warmed her eyes as she looked at the halfling.

Suppressing a sigh, he realised he envied the Hobbit in that moment. There were times when he longed to be anyone but a king and grandson to Thror, and of late he had come to wish he didn't carry the burden more often than before. There was a struggle going on inside, one he couldn't quite explain, but it made him weary – thin and stretched, and he got lost in dark and unpleasant thoughts.

After watching the two for a long while, the wish for some respite from his internal struggle got the better of him and he rose and walked over to the fire to join them. As he drew near they both looked up at him, and for a second he felt like he was intruding. They both seemed slightly surprised by his presence, but before he could make a hasty retreat with his tail of shame tucked between his legs, they made room for him, offering smiles.

For the first time in many evenings he didn't turn to the ring he inherited to comfort himself as he listened to the two. Before long he and Tauriel was involved in a philosophical discussion with Bilbo as an attentive audience, from time to time cutting in with questions and demands for clarification. Tauriel's sharp wit and Bilbo's mild cleverness pulled him out of his dark mood and he eventually even laughed briefly, something he hadn't done in weeks.

As he sought out his bedroll that night it was like a weight had lifted from him, and he slept the moment he closed his eyes.

. . .

The genial mood was still there when he woke up in the morning, and it gave him hope that the day would be a decent one, and that they would put plenty of miles behind them. However, already by breakfast, that hope was rapidly abandoning him.

Dwalin was acting surly where he sat in the dull morning twilight, glumly chewing on some lembas bread. He barely acknowledged Thorin as he sat down next to his long-time friend, causing Thorin to shoot him a questioning glance, which Dwalin pointedly ignored. Thorin decided to let it slide. They had a mission and he should focus on that and not be pulled into silly drama.

His good mood slowly evaporated though, and he found himself becoming increasingly annoyed with Dwalin's grouchy silence. The muteness was criticism, he knew this, and it angered him. He had every right to choose whom he would speak with and he did not need the Fundin brothers' permission for anything. He shot Balin a glare as well. The white-bearded Dwarf had seated himself with Gloin and Oin this morning, and it felt like a slap in Thorin's face – no less censuring than Dwalin's quiet ignorance.

Coalescing from the surrounding shadows of the forest, Tauriel emerged together with Calemir, her closest subordinate and the one she usually turned to for deliberations. This morning however, they were silent as they moved through the camp. Tauriel's keen eyes swept over them with a stony expression in place, though her gaze momentarily paused as she met Thorin's eyes. He almost believed he had imagined the minute nod acknowledging him, but as her eyes continued to scan the surroundings, Dwalin's sneer told him the warrior had noticed it too.

Grinding his molars, Thorin struggled to keep his calm, but lost the battle with his temper after a few seconds. In one fluid motion he stood and moved away from the others, pretending to check on his pack, though in reality he was removing himself before he blew up, causing an embarrassing scene. As he neared his backpack, he spotted Bilbo finishing his preparations for the day ahead, and some of his wrath slowly evaporated.

"Ready for another day?" he asked quietly, as he hunched down by his packs.

Bilbo looked up and a fleeting smile brightened his eyes. "As well as one can be in this forest," he replied.

Thorin nodded and absently went over the straps and clasps. His focus was on the Hobbit nearby, this odd little fellow who had seemed so unfit for this journey, not to mention him hardly being anyone Thorin would see a point in becoming more closely acquainted with. He smiled at how wrong he had been. When he looked up again, Bilbo was studying him with concern in his eyes.

"Thorin, are you well?" the Hobbit asked, and there was no mistaking the sincerity in the question.

He was about to brush it off, not admitting to anything being amiss, but as he opened his mouth, he paused and found himself unable to hide the truth. Bilbo's concerned eyes did not waver and a moment later a resigned sigh escaped him.

"I nearly lost control over my temper just now," he admitted and shook his head. "I can barely contain it and I struggle through the days."

Bilbo nodded slowly. "There is something not right with this forest," he mused and darted a look around them. "It seems to affect everyone, though in different ways."

Thorin's attention was instantly sharpened and he cocked his head to the side as he felt some of his usual vigour and attention return.

"Some have grown quite short-tempered." A small mild smile flittered across Bilbo's face. "Well, more than usual, anyway."

As Thorin smirked, Bilbo shook his head. "No, I was not thinking of you." A small smile curved Bilbo's lips again as the king raised his brow in slight surprise. "You have so far been one of the least altered."

"I can tell you this much; I do not feel unchanged," Thorin replied ruefully.

"That may be, but it doesn't show. Not that I have noticed." The sandy-haired little fellow heaved a sigh. "I wonder if Bofur's dejection isn't the most difficult change. It's not consistent, but when the bouts of quietness come over him, it's quite disconcerting. Not even Nori can lift his spirits, and you know how close they are."

Thorin had to admit he had been blind to this and a he felt a stab of guilt. "Bombur?" he asked.

"Affected too, but he loses his appetite. Bifur is melancholy but more on the gruff side. But he breaks his crafts." Bilbo picked at his bedroll strapped to his bag.

With a nod, Thorin turned to look for the Broadbeam members of the company, and as he found them, he clearly saw what Bilbo had been talking about. How he could have missed it was beyond him and he heaved another sigh.

"Well, here's proof that I'm not myself. I had not even noticed." His voice was heavy with regret.

Bilbo blushed slightly. "You have many things to consider."

"But without the members of this company, the Arkenstone cannot be retrieved, the seven families will not heed my calling and the dragon will continue to reside in our home. I could not make this journey on my own." Thorin shook his head. "What was I thinking?"

"Do not make a mountain out of a molehill," Bilbo said gently. "This will be over soon." His eyes moved to something behind Thorin, and he smiled warmly.

Thorin did not need to turn his head to know who had approached them. Familiar legs and feet clad in brown leather came to a halt next to him, and with her usual practised ease she lowered herself down to meet Bilbo's gaze on more equal terms.

"If what you say is true, it is grave. We still have two weeks ahead of us." Tauriel's voice was hushed, yet clear as she revealed she had overheard the conversation. Her features were collected and calm, and Thorin felt more than he saw her concern.

"Are you not affected by this . . . ?" Bilbo waved his hand vaguely at the trees surrounding them as he searched for the right words.

Tauriel threw what looked suspiciously a lot like a glare at the forest. "I wish I could say we aren't, and not so long ago I would have dismissed such an idea, but these days I'm not so certain." She paused. "I feel the presence of . . . something. We have for a long time. It has grown more prominent of late, and it may be leaking into our minds too. I'm not unaware of the effects it can have on others though."

"Can anything be done?" Thorin asked, aiming his unwavering gaze at her. She considered his question for a while.

"I can use my Eldar fae for brief moments to give relief if necessary, but anything beyond that is not within my power. It's taxing and I could not help all of you."

Bilbo leaned forward slightly. "But you can do it?" he asked.

She turned back to the Hobbit but hesitated before she replied. "I can, yes."

"So . . . if it were to become particularly bad, you could do something at least?" Bilbo pressed on.

"Only as a last resort. You are all affected, and what's seen on the outside does not always reveal who's struggling the most." She turned her head and gazed at Thorin, her eyes piercing through him, and he knew she used her innate ability on him.

"I do not appreciate having my privacy invaded," he ground out and anger flared in his chest again, searing and consuming, and he felt like breaking something. But all he did was to carefully lower his gaze to the ground and flex his fingers.

She averted her eyes but didn't offer any apologies. "I am well aware of why it is difficult, but I only act out of concern." Her voice was distant, and when he eyed her through his eyelashes he saw her absent look, how she detached herself.

It tugged at his heart but he kept his reaction well contained. Despite his efforts to not reveal sympathy, she turned her eyes at him and she didn't bother to hide now that she saw straight through him. Wordlessly she conveyed her hurt; that she had to endure their anger and suspicion, while the sympathy she sparked in them was kept from her. Damnable Elf, he bristled.

Slowly she raised her hands and sought something at the back of her neck and when she held up her hands again she pulled a piece of jewellery out from under her tunic, handing it to Thorin.

"It will help." On impulse he caught the necklace and she allowed the chain to elegantly come to rest on his palm in a circle. It was made from a silvery metal of some sort, simple, and the pendant had only a hint of the characteristic Elven ornamentation with no stones or gems to be seen. He weighed it in his hand and then shot her a glance in askance.

"It will not glow if danger is near – it's not infused with the powers old – but as it has been sung to life. I believe it would offer protection against the ills in this forest," she replied to the unasked question.

"Wait . . . sung to life?" Bilbo interjected.

Tauriel turned to the Hobbit with a smile. "There are those among the Eldar who can infuse items with light magic, for protection and care. This was given to me when I was old enough to wear it. A strand of light has been lent to it, shielding and comforting the wearer."

The necklace seemed to burn in Thorin's hand and he held it warily away from himself. "I cannot take it. It's a very personal item of yours that I'm certain you do not wish to lose," he said cautiously.

A small smirk formed on her lips. "You intend to lose it then?"

"No," he sighed. "But I would not risk it."

"It's all very courteous of you, but it is mine to lend to those in need, and I can tell you are." Her voice was firm now.

"There are those who need it more." Thorin's eyes wandered over to the Broadbeam members of the company. In the corner of his eye he noticed her frown.

"Though you are all affected, I sense . . . ." Her voice died and he turned back to her with narrowing eyes. "I cannot force you," she continued. "But my judgement as a healer is that it would serve you best."

He almost sneered at what her words implied, that he somehow should be more affected than the others and that he would do well to listen to her. It felt like a noose to be put around his neck. He felt her weighty gaze on him, but he kept his on the pendant, warm in his hand. It both pulled at and repelled him, and his face darkened as he studied it. Elven magic, he groused to himself.

"You have no qualms about carrying Orcrist," Tauriel suddenly said dryly.

His eyes snapped to hers at once and he glowered at her. She only raised her brow a fraction at him, unruffled by his annoyance. Still glaring at her, he promptly fastened the chain around his neck and tucked the pendant under his layers of clothing where it came to rest over his heart. Another disturbing detail which almost had him tearing it off again, and had Tauriel shown any hint of gloating, he surely would have done so. Her face was impassive though as she smoothly stood.

"We should continue our journey," was all she said, and then she left.

Bilbo silently rose to his feet and pulled the shoulder straps on his backpack in place, wisely neither looking at nor talking to Thorin, and he followed the Hobbit's example, hefting his much heavier rucksack as well.

As he turned around to rouse the others, he looked straight into Dwalin's disapproving eyes, only this time all he could feel was sadness. The rage had evaporated, much to his surprise. With heavy steps he approached his friend and reached out, putting his hand on his shoulder and tugging him close, pressing his forehead against Dwalin's. The warrior did not resist and Thorin could tell some of the anger and tension drained out of his stiff frame.

"Two weeks," Thorin said. "That's all. Then we'll be able to put this behind us."

Dwalin grunted in response and pulled back, eyeing the chain around his neck.

"I suppose you could see it as a precaution. And she did have a point when she needled me about having no problem carrying Orcrist."

"Well, it's a weapon," Dwalin ground out.

"So is a scimitar, but you don't see me carrying one around, and it's not only because it's inferior," Thorin said coolly.

For long moments they stared at each other, then Dwalin sighed. "I worry. She's everything we know Elves are not; honest and sympathetic. And she's like a wedge between us."

"She's only a wedge if you treat her as such," Thorin said intently.

"Sometimes I wonder. You're changing Thorin."

Thorin shook his head. "This forest is wearing on us all – that's the danger. It makes us fight amongst each other. I listen to Tauriel because she knows this forest and her judgement is sound. It would be foolish to discard it."

Dwalin didn't look convinced, but he didn't continue to press matters.

"Come. We must move if we are to ever put this accursed place behind us," Thorin said with a small smile.

o.o.o

The attack came in the wee hours of morning and for a short while it was all pandemonium.

Tauriel had rarely been so close to being injured, possibly fatally so, as she was that morning. But a well-aimed axe being thrown at the right moment spared her such a discomfort. She didn't bother to look for her saviour in the calamity, but continued to slash and hack her way through enemy bodies, sending as many as she could to their deaths.

The Dwarves certainly did their part. She remembered that Dwarves had eyes like cats – in need of very little light to see what was happening around them – and it was quite useful in the darkness. Several times Elves, including herself, were saved by a Dwarf who could see what they themselves did not, and though these Dwarves most likely were the cause of the attack in the first place, now when they were having to fight, she was grateful for their keen eyes and fearlessness. She had expected nothing less from Thorin and Dwalin, but Dori and Oin astounded her with their vigour, not to mention the raw strength they possessed.

It was a difficult situation though. The attackers were only Goblins and it seemed like there was no end to them. Tauriel suspected that none of the patrolling guards were alive or they would have warned about the oncoming attack. Long-time colleagues most likely were dead and it filled her with a fury that found its natural outlet.

She tried to keep some kind of grip on the situation though and not to allow herself to be carried away, which was the reason for her noticing Thorin going down. He, Dwalin and Balin had made a decent attempt at sticking together, but in the melee it was difficult. They were pushed back and lost the formation, and as Thorin tried to pull them together again, he had the misfortune of coming across a treacherous root, hidden by some bracken, which caught his boot.

Unable to regain his footing, Thorin tumbled backwards, his back slamming into a tree. Two Goblins lunged for him and he barely managed to raise his guard to ward off the attack from one of them. The other Goblin was on his throat the next moment, clawing and snapping with its teeth, trying to bite into his neck.

As he attempted to rid himself of the Goblin wrapping itself around him, he slid to his left and they both crashed to the ground. He was sprawled on the forest floor, frantically fighting the snapping creature, at the same time as he kicked out to get rid of the other Goblin still on its feet, attacking with its crude weapon. Dwalin roared and made a heroic effort to reach Thorin, but couldn't pull free.

Tauriel's feet were carrying her to their position instantly, without hesitation. She jumped, ran and cut her way through the enemy efficiently, as was her wont, taking out the Goblin who was just about to use its crude blade on Thorin's legs. At the same time, the one clinging to him suddenly reared back, shrieking and flailing, scrambling to get away from him.

"You filthy scum!" Thorin bellowed and shot up, sword first, sweeping it in a wide half-circle, forcing Tauriel to retreat as well. His face was a mask of murderous rage which matched how she felt inside.

The Goblin continued to shriek while desperately crawling on the ground away from him. Tauriel caught sight of the pendant she had lent to Thorin gleaming in the faint morning light, and she realised what had the Goblin fleeing from him.

Thorin lunged himself after it but the creature was faster than expected and with a furious growl he landed on the ground on his side, half-submerged in the bracken. With ease she closed the distance between herself and the frantic Goblin and ended it. Then she turned towards Thorin, stooped down, and gripped him by his elbow, yanking upwards.

Though she had braced herself for his weight, she very nearly toppled over anyway. Fortunately he had caught on and pushed off the ground, saving her from the embarrassment of losing her balance, knocking them both to the ground.

A feral grin flashed over his face, revealing that he was clearly amused by the thought of such a mortifying situation where she would have made a fool of herself. She couldn't help but snort herself, but she still let go of his arm with a firm push.

"Watch your step, Dwarf!" she snarked.

His eyes shifted to something behind her and before she had finished the sentence he plunged ahead, shoving her to the side and skewered a Goblin who was about to hack an axe into her back.

Whirling around he caught her arm, yanked it, sending her in Dwalin's direction, who finally had worked himself free of the onslaught of Goblins. She almost went airborne but managed to stay upright and even dispatch one of the remaining Goblins.

"Watch your back, Elf!" he snarked back, grinning with cold amusement, then turned his full attention back to the fray.

When Tauriel followed his example she realised the tide had turned and that the Goblins weren't going to win this day. With renewed energy she threw herself back into the fight.

. . .

The aftermath was difficult. Tauriel had lost several of her guard colleagues and it was with a heavy heart she took in their lifeless faces, confirming they were indeed dead. There were a few serious injuries that she saw to, aided by Oin, who turned out to be a good asset. Later he took on the minor cuts and scrapes alongside her. They worked well together, and she acknowledged as much. He sighed and patted her arm.

"I expected nothing but the best from you, lass," he nodded kindly, and she for some reason felt like a blushing young Elfling, being praised by an old seasoned master, which was completely illogical since she was several hundred years older than the half-deaf Dwarf.

Catching sight of Thorin, she wondered how come Oin hadn't approached him yet, as he clearly had been injured by the Goblin attacking him so fiercely. She threw a glance after Oin who was looking over Nori and then she decided to take a look at his injuries herself.

As she approached him where he sat by the fire, his face darkened as he spotted her.

"There's no need to fuss," he grumbled as she stopped in front of him.

"I do not 'fuss'. You should know that injuries caused by Orcs and Goblins are to be taken seriously." She reached for her water skin while he rolled his eyes and made some disgruntled noises.

"I'm beginning to understand why Oin has been avoiding you," she continued and hunched down to begin her work.

His snort developed into a chuckle. "Aye. He's clever," he nodded. "Leaving you to deal with me and saving himself the headache."

Reluctantly she smiled as she rinsed the scratches. The smile faded quickly though, as she moved the collar to take a closer look at an injury partly hidden by his shirt. A severe bite mark was revealed when she pushed the fabric aside. He had been bleeding quite a lot and it had to be quite painful. She shifted her eyes from the injury to catch his eyes.

"This is no trifle. You need to remove these garments or I cannot treat you," she said and tugged at the fur coat he was wearing.

He scowled at her and began protesting, but she cut him off, threatening to call for help to hold him down so she could cut away the clothes if he didn't comply.

"It needs to be treated properly," she said sternly.

After a short glaring contest he stiffly shed the sleeveless coat, revealing a vest and a short sleeved leather jerkin with an elaborate metal protection covering it. As if that weren't enough, he was also wearing a long sleeved gambeson, and finally a shirt, laced up at the front, and woollen underwear, with buttons. No wonder the Goblin had been unsuccessful inflicting injury for the most part, she realised as she watched him slowly taking off the vest. He stiffened as he went on to remove the jerkin, not being able to hide that the bite was giving him discomfort.

"I can spare you the discomfort," she suggested and nodded at the elaborate garment that had to be pulled over his head to come off, drawing one of her knives.

He sent her a scathing look and clenched his teeth, forcing himself to push through the pain from lifting and moving the arm and injured shoulder. Cold sweat was breaking out on his forehead as the jerkin was in a pile on the ground next to him, and he was beginning to pale. The gambeson was fortunately held together with lacing at the front and she swiftly moved in and with nimble fingers she removed the ribbon.

It said something about the level of distress he was in that he didn't protest as she got rid of the fastening and the vambraces before she gently helped him out of the quilted protective garment. The shirt was laced in the same fashion as the gambeson, and was soon discarded too, leaving him in only his woollen underwear, trousers, and boots. As she undid the four buttons at the front, Dwalin dropped down heavily next to Thorin, nailing his eyes on her. But she ignored him as she carefully peeled away the blood soaked shirt, studying the injury closely. Tugging at the fabric she said absently, "This should come off too."

Thorin hissed and she glanced at him with a slightly raised brow. "It's soaked with blood."

"I'll change it later," he said stiffly.

With a shrug she began to rinse it properly, but she quickly had to ask Dwalin to brace Thorin as he looked like he was about to keel over, becoming alarmingly pale. After distributing some wolfsbane she continued, and as the jagged edges were properly revealed she sighed as she concluded the injury needed more than just a thorough cleaning.

"It needs stitches," she declared and found her small kit. She went over to the fire to clean herself up and to prepare her equipment. She heard Thorin grumble about the unnecessary ado and reluctantly she smiled at his grousing. In some ways he reminded her of Legolas, who didn't appreciated being fussed over either, though his reaction was distinctly Elvish – stoic disapproval.

The stitches quickly were put in place with only a few hisses and glares. This was mostly for show since the wolfsbane took the edge off of any pain in the area. As she turned to pick up the marigold salve, it was held out to her by a set of large Dwarven hands.

"Here lass. Oh, that is a nasty one," Oin said and leaned in, peering at the injury as he handed her the salve.

She nodded and took the salve from his hand. "He's in quite a lot of pain, there's been some blood loss, and he'll be fighting an infection. Hopefully that's all," she replied grimly. "We'll know in a few days if he was infected with something else."

"Something else?" Dwalin echoed and took a closer look at the now closed wound.

Tauriel glanced up at the balding warrior. "Yes. There are diseases that spread through bites. I can handle them if discovered early, so I will need to monitor his condition closely in the coming days." She sighed and paused in her administration of the marigold salve. "We cannot stay here, but with several individuals injured, our pace will be slow and we will need to stop often."

"People need time for recovery," Oin grumped.

"I will not be the cause of any delay," Thorin said hoarsely, and Tauriel darted a cursory glance at his face, noting that he was still quite pale.

"We'll put some distance to this place, then we'll rest," she replied quietly. Closing the jar, she eyed the undergarment that was soiled with blood. "It would make it easier for me to bandage it if that comes off."

Thorin's face darkened.

"I mean no disrespect," she continued. "I only wish to finish this." She motioned at the injury with her hand.

"I can wrap him up, lass," Oin said and patted her on her shoulder, taking the jar from her hands. "And no need to worry. I'll not let him keep the soiled clothes. You see, they come in one piece, our undergarments, and very few are comfortable with their pants down, so to speak," Oin chuckled.

She frowned and gave Thorin a quick glance, then inclined her head. "Of course. I'll leave you to it." Without hesitation she rose.

"Tauriel," Thorin's voice was surprisingly gentle as he spoke, and she turned to face him. "Thank you."

Her back stiffened and her eyes dipped to the ground. "There is no need to thank me. I would have been at least seriously wounded if not for your sword."

"Yes, and I'm relieved I'm not in your debt. My gratitude is for your skill in taking care of wounds and injuries."

She nodded, still moving stiffly.

. . .

The day never seemed to end. Tauriel's attention was in constant demand and had they not been forced to stay on foot because of the attack, she would have ordered them to stop much sooner than she did. When they finally did stop for the night, she went to work again, looking over wounds and making certain any issues were dealt with and no one was in unnecessary pain.

It was well after dark when Bombur finally physically caught her with his big hand and pressed a bowl into her hands, demanding she should sit. She looked into the bowl and then around herself, realising the Dwarves together with Calemir had quietly made certain everyone had been fed, a latrine had been set up, and guard duty had been distributed among those who were uninjured. With a deep frown she sank down on the ground to eat her meal.

It was not like her to be so absorbed by something that she forgot she had other responsibilities. Her hand went to her chest where the pendant should rest, feeling a distinct sense of unease nagging at the back of her mind. She had always worn the pendant and never considered its protective powers, but she was beginning to feel slightly off-centre without it. Shaking her head, she continued to eat.

Her mind registered familiar footfalls and a pair of boots she knew well by now planted themselves opposite her, and when she looked up she saw Thorin lower himself somewhat stiffly to the ground. She paused and raised her brow questioningly but he shook his head.

"I'm doing well, considering. Pain has never killed anyone," he grunted.

She let the spoon sink into the stew with a frown. "I am uncertain of the correct dose for your needs. Is it too weak?"

Thorin chuckled. "I did not take any." At her obvious displeasure he shook his head. "It muddles the mind. I'd rather endure the discomfort and stay alert."

"I did not distribute the kind that dulls senses," she replied, somewhat testily. "It would be most unwise to do so at present."

He studied her closely. "The pendant – it's more powerful than you let on."

"I was not aware I let on anything. It does exactly what I said it does."

"I saw the Goblin's reaction."

She nodded. "They do not particularly like the sight of Orcrist either."

"Leave the sword out of it."

Her eyebrows arched. "They are both of Elven origin. That is what they fear." With a faint smile she picked up the spoon again. "The pendant holds no strong magic, mysterious and hidden. It gives protection in that it wards off evil influence, but it does not create an impenetrable shield." She nodded at his injury. "Or the Goblin would not have been able to bite you."

It didn't look like he quite believed her. "You have been talking to Dwalin, haven't you?" she asked. His eyes dropped to the ground between them, which was all she needed for confirmation.

"Of all the strange things this forest can do to those who enter, I think Dwalin's change is the most peculiar. It's said it twists what's already there, exaggerates it until kills. I always expected a warrior to succumb to his anger, but it's his keen eye for people's inclinations, desires and intentions that would be his bane," she mused. "His suspicion would drive him into conflicts and to make poor decisions."

"You don't know him," he said, visibly irked by her words.

"I know enough."

"And yours would be setting yourself aside," he suddenly said. "You say this does not hold strong magic, but I believe it has awarded you the ability to move in this forest unconcerned by its ill effects. You may be an Elf, but without it, you too are affected."

"Do you know what happens when we fade?" she asked. He shook his head. "We let go of the worldly things around us. We continue to function, and we cannot turn away from friends and companions if they need us to help them, but our own needs and safety cease to matter. We weaken until something kills us – be it lack of sustenance or an injury." She gave him a sad smile. "If I'm setting myself aside, it's the first sign of fading you're observing."

"I cannot continue to carry this if the forest kills you without it," he said gravely and his hand went to his chest where the pendant rested unseen, hidden under the many layers he wore.

She surprised him with her laughter. "It won't kill me. Not in such a short time. This process takes many years. Most Elves live for a century or more before fading takes full effect and they die. Besides, I do not think the influence is strong enough for it to truly kill. Weaken, yes, but not kill."

"Which is bad enough."

With a nod she conceded. "I'm not so concerned for my own sake, but the people I have vowed to protect . . . " Her voice tapered off and she closed her mouth, aiming her gaze at the bowl in her hands. She needed to remember that this was not just anyone, but the king-in-exile, Thorin Oakenshield. Not a foe, but not a trusted ally and friend either, though her king owned much of why the situation was the way it was. Revealing that she and Thranduil didn't see eye to eye on this topic would be skirting the borders of what would be acceptable.

"I can tell you must have had disputes with your king," he commented, eyeing her intently.

The spoon in Tauriel's hand stopped on its way to her mouth, and reluctantly she darted a look at him.

"Simply an educated guess on my part," he smirked, looking far too pleased with himself.

Her eyes narrowed in annoyance, but she had to admit this was her own doing. She had allowed him to get the better of her with her poor discipline.

"At some point there will be a disagreement of some sort, I should think, no matter the ruler."

"Does he have you on a leash? Is there anything he can use as extortion?" Thorin brusquely asked.

Tauriel's eyes widened and she drew back, gripping the bowl in her hand tightly as her mind raced. It was none of Thorin's business in the first place and he certainly should not assume he could tarnish her ruler with any implications of the sort. And yet, she knew that her king could be ruthless. It was this knowledge that stopped her from launching into an indignant reprimand, and had her grasping for words.

"I know what he's capable of, and I'm not saying it because of my personal opinion of him. I know this is your home, and you have a position I'm certain you do not wish to lose. However, if it is important enough, such things can hold surprisingly little weight. Loved ones, on the other hand, is another matter," he continued, his steely blue gaze losing some of its chilling sharpness.

She swallowed hard, trying to gather her scattered mind. Briefly she closed her eyes. "I am a loyal subject to my Lord Thranduil. I cannot discuss his decisions, nor any of our dealings. My personal life is also none of your concern," she finally managed.

"A good and dutiful answer, telling me to mind my own business." He nodded and a smile quirked his lips. "And out of it I can read plenty," he continued, and somehow Tauriel felt she had fallen into a trap again, revealing things she never intended to tell him.

Thorin was not like his nephew Kili, who by simply being who he was would inspire people to talk too much. Instead he triggered reactions that exposed her true and unguarded opinions as well as other information. It made her angry with herself, though she recognised he probably saw it as a fair trade for her tendency to read him.

"Don't hand anyone a collar with which they can control you, whether it be rulers, superiors, or nosy Dwarven kings." The last he said with a smirk and without his usual agility he stood, nodded at her before he left her to finish her meal.

She stared after him, feeling completely off-kilter. This was not something she had expected, she had to admit. It was a sound general advice which could have been given by anyone, but coming from Thorin she couldn't interpret it in any other way than as an olive branch.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last leg of the Mirkwood journey.

_Mirkwood, September 2941 TA_

As the days crawled by after the ambush, Thorin became aware that the situation was slowly becoming explosive. Tauriel did everything to make certain there would be no second Goblin attack, though not at the expense of the wounded. It was truly a heroic effort she gave them and one they hadn't earned, in his opinion. In fact, aside from Oin and Bilbo, and to some extent Bofur and Bombur, his company acted poorly towards the Elves in general and Tauriel in particular. As much as he disliked Elves, Thorin had to admit that they owed the captain at least some courtesy and gratitude for her relentless work.

His approach was to lead by example, but that did not turn out very well. Dwalin in particular grew more and more thunderous for each civilised word he spoke, in particular when he directed himself at Tauriel. He did not need the ability to see into anyone's soul to tell that the Elven captain's annoyance was turning into anger and quite soon he realised he needed to put down his foot before the situation got out of hand.

It seemed to calm down. However, when Oin mentioned having been asked by Tauriel to care for his injury, suspicion gripped him. After interrogating the apothecary he realised that the conflict only was kept from his attention and that it was very much alive, being heralded by Dwalin and that the main target was Tauriel.

It was a blow to his authority, Thorin decided. He _was_ the company leader, and Dwalin had, with his poor behaviour, undermined his ability to lead, cutting him off from those he currently needed to deal with. Tauriel had been right when she had reflected on how Dwalin was affected by the forest, but he had not quite wanted to accept it. He now realised his error, and the anger he felt was as much aimed at himself as at Dwalin.

For once he lost his temper openly.

Afterwards he regretted it deeply, but what was done could not be undone. The coming day he chose to keep his distance with everyone, and no one challenged his wish for solitude, which, considering the wrath he had displayed, hardly was surprising. The only good thing seemed to be that the sense of foreboding was gone.

He had no idea how to mend the situation with his company though. When the evening came and they stopped for the night, his head was aching from having turned the problem over a few times too many without finding any answers. Wearily he ate his meal, still keeping his distance with the others, having sat down at the outer perimeter of the camp.

He was just about to roll up in his blanket and attempt to find sleep when Tauriel steered her feet in his direction. Bracing himself, he watched her approach and come to a halt in front of him, gazing down at him with an unreadable face.

"The stitches need to be removed," she declared quietly.

He realised he was holding his breath and released the air in his lungs and nodded. "Of course," he murmured. "Do you require more light?" he asked.

Hesitating for a second she eyed him carefully, and then nodded. "It would make the task easier, yes," she admitted.

Heaving himself up from the ground, he stood and gave her a nod, before he led the way over to the fire. The Dwarves were huddled in their family groups with the Broadbeams and Bilbo being the closest to the fire. Thorin spotted a toy in Bifur's hands which he was working on, and he guessed this was the reason for their closeness to the fire.

Bilbo and Bombur were engaged in a quiet conversation about cooking, which had Thorin smiling as he rounded them, seeking a spot for him and Tauriel. The four looked up as he and the captain passed, offering small smiles and nods, and to his surprise they didn't seem wary. Granted, none of them had been in the line of fire, but he still had expected them to tread carefully around him.

He began shedding his clothes as Tauriel went through the same cleaning procedure as she had after the attack, while Bofur, Bombur and Bilbo looked on. Bifur only threw them a cursory glance before he continued working on his toy.

"Taking out the embroidery?" Bofur asked, breaking the silence, and began filling up his pipe.

A flicker of amusement passed over Tauriel's face, and Thorin chuckled. "Apparently," he replied and sat down.

"It would have been original to add to it instead – make it into a flower motif, perhaps? Tattoos and piercings are so dull and commonplace these days, but skin deep embroidery! Now that's something! Would set a trend, for sure!" Bofur lit his pipe.

"Do I seem like a flower person to you?" Thorin asked with a smirk.

Bofur shrugged. "Would make an interesting contrast."

"As intriguing as it sounds, I think I'll stick to what I'm already wearing."

Bofur elbowed Bilbo and leaned in towards him. "He's becoming conservative in his old age," he said and winked. Bilbo's eyes widened and wandered between Thorin and Bofur.

Thorin snorted. "There is a difference between fashion and style. I have the latter," he said with dignity and slowly unbuttoned the woollen underwear.

"Looking like a veritable Yule present there," Bofur commented as the bandages showed more clearly. His eyes slid over to Tauriel who positioned herself so she had as much light as possible on the shoulder in question while working. She brought up a knife to begin cutting away the bandages, when Bofur started chuckling. The knife came to a halt as she glanced over at him, looking confused. Thorin on the other hand sighed.

"Ignore him," he rumbled and sent Bofur a meaningful look.

"Quite an efficient method for opening presents," Bofur said glibly.

The knife came to a halt again, and Tauriel turned her head to look at Bofur. "I can give you a personal demonstration of just how efficient I can be. And how precise," she deadpanned.

Bofur nearly toppled over with laughter, and Tauriel returned to cutting through the bandages. Thorin couldn't quite keep his amusement in check even if he had one of the Elven captain's very sharp knives uncomfortably close. A ghost of a smile stole over her face.

The stitches were removed quickly and though there was a painful twitch as he moved the arm around as Tauriel ordered him to, it was no more than expected and she seemed pleased. While she picked up the discarded bandages and threw them on the fire he began re-dressing.

"Here lass," Bofur said and handed Tauriel something as she sat down again. When Thorin took a closer look he saw it was a mug and by the scent he could tell it was tea, the kind the Broadbeams favoured. Tauriel took the offered beverage and sat back, tasting it and then looking at it with a puzzled look on her face.

"Too strong?" the hatted Dwarf asked, letting out a poof of smoke.

"This is not only tea," she stated as she raised her eyes.

"Of course not," Bofur huffed. "After such an ordeal I reckon you need something a bit stronger." He nodded at Thorin who was slipping back into his jerkin. "But you don't need to drink all of it."

She smirked at him. "I could drink you under the table at any time," she challenged.

"Ack, such bold words," Bofur said in a sing-song voice, and Tauriel laughed.

"You may come to regret taunting her, Bofur," Thorin warned with a grin, sitting down too, without taking on the vest or the fur coat. Like the others, heat did not bother him in the least, but the evening was warm, in particularly by the fire, and there was no need for the many layers he always wore. Not for warmth, nor for stature. For the time being, he would rather keep things light, allowing Bofur to continue to brighten their mood.

The miner held out a mug to Thorin as well, which he accepted with a slight smile and a nod. A sniff confirmed the tea was indeed laced with a substantial splash of something stronger.

"Are you trying to put me under?" he asked as his eyebrows shot up in surprise. " _Gemez_?" He looked up at Bofur questioningly.

" _Gemez_!" Bombur exclaimed, affronted on the behalf of the content in the small flask. " _Gemey_ , if you please. You barbarian! Not knowing Orc piss from the truly good produce," he continued with a sniff.

"Then why do you pour it into the black tea then, if it's such a fine beverage?" Thorin smirked back.

Bombur harrumphed, while Bofur snickered. Tauriel and Bilbo followed the exchange with curious interest and smiles on their faces.

"What is . . . _Gemez_?" Bilbo asked, peering at the mug in Thorin's hand.

"Simple distillate," Thorin explained. "Can be quite foul tasting. _Gemey_ is a high-class distilled spirit – the smokier the flavour, the better. It's amber in colour."

Bilbo nodded. Bofur poured another mug of tea and then added a dash of the spirit he had already served Tauriel and Thorin.

"Here. Have a go." Bofur held out the mug at Bilbo.

"Oh, I don't know . . . " Bilbo began but quickly found the mug pressed into his hands and an expectant Bofur looking at him. Bilbo brought the mug to his lips, and then promptly exploded in coughing as he swallowed. Bofur chuckled and banged him between the shoulder blades.

"Thank you," Bilbo wheezed once he ceased coughing.

"Glad you enjoyed it!" Bofur grinned and Bilbo smiled wanly back at him and then smuggled the mug down on the ground, away from him. Thorin held out his hand silently and nodded at the mug, and after a few seconds of confusion Bilbo caught on and picked it up and passed it on to him. He poured half of the content into his mug and then passed it on to Tauriel, who accepted it and emptied it into hers. Bilbo smiled gratefully at them.

"So," the Hobbit exclaimed into the silence with false cheeriness. "Is there a significance to the . . . " He gestured at the helix piercing in Thorin's ear.

"I, my sister, and my brother were given one each. It holds nothing but sentimental value," Thorin replied, keeping his voice even. Nevertheless, he saw the look on Bilbo's face; the Hobbit knew Frerin was dead. His attempt at directing attention away from himself was potentially about to end in disaster. Thorin drew a deep breath and continued speaking before the mood plummeted and put an end to this pleasant moment.

"Though there certainly are adornments and accessories that hold great meaning to us. Most are to please the eye alone, some with sentimental value such as having been given by a relative or a loved one. Some we wear to commemorate a particular person or event. Dwalin's tattoos hold great meaning to him, and any Dwarf seeing them knows what the individual tattoo is, though the entire reason behind having them done isn't clear."

He slowly sipped on his tea, letting what he had just told Bilbo, and Tauriel by association, sink in.

"There is not much difference between men and women in this. My sister has a fairly substantial tattoo, larger than what Dwalin has, for instance. Dori and Nori have equally elaborate braids and beads, and no one could tell which one is the female and which is the male. Well, aside from our own folk, that is." He smirked and this time he glanced at Tauriel. Her eyes, large with surprise, went to the two siblings sitting together at a fair distance.

"Nori, the most stealthy member of the company, is a woman," Thorin revealed. "Granted, she is very deliberately not emphasising this fact, so your surprise is understandable. One or two of our folk could initially miss this too," he continued graciously, even if he smirked at her reaction.

"I always heard-" she cut herself off and darted a glance at him and the other Dwarves, with pink cheeks.

Bofur snickered at her. "That it's impossible to tell us apart?"

Tauriel looked rather embarrassed as she nodded. "But I believed it to be prejudice after having met Gisla. I dare say no one could mistake her for a male."

"And without clothes they definitely wouldn't," the miner snorted. "Among us it's said that it's not a great difference between you either, as long as you keep your clothes on. All being thin and fair."

She shrugged and smiled. "Quite obvious to us," she said breezily.

"You are a lass, aren't you?" Bofur teased on, which had Tauriel laughing.

She glanced down at herself and the leather cuirass she was wearing, which certainly didn't disguise what it was covering.

"I was under the impression this would be enough of a hint," she retorted and looked up at Bofur, gesturing at her torso. Bombur chuckled at his brother's expense, who jovially admitted to not having mistaken her for a man.

The banter between Tauriel and Bofur continued and took new paths, and Thorin quietly sat back and enjoyed it, occasionally snickering as they needled each other. As he watched both chuckle at a joke, his own mirth began to fade. Balin had warned him of familiarity, which he had brushed aside, just as he had brushed aside the astute remarks made by Tauriel. But just as Tauriel had been right about Dwalin, Balin had been right about Tauriel. Somehow she had slipped through some cracks in his carefully maintained defences that he had maintained against Elves for almost his entire life. He could hardly believe it.

He liked her competence and her dry wit, and she gave him a fresh perspective. Her bluntness was original, not only because she was an Elf, which made it startling in itself, but also because she truly had none of the ties his own folk had. She could allow herself to treat him like he was anyone, which she did, and he valued that. He valued her.

Draining the contents of his mug, he slowly rose and handed it to Bofur who took it. Then he nodded his goodnight and left. The alcohol made him sleepy, which he suspected had been Bofur's aim all along.

He settled down heavily on his bedroll, toed off his boots, and dumped the jerkin and gambeson unceremoniously next to them. When he looked up, he saw Tauriel again heading his way, carrying the fur coat and the vest he had left by the fire, completely forgotten by him.

As she stopped in front of him, she held the garments out to him.

"I assume you would want these eventually," she said calmly.

He nodded and reached out, taking them from her outstretched hand. She offered a slight smile and began turning away.

"You once said we share more than I think," he found himself saying. He had been wanting to ask ever since that conversation, but until now he had managed to keep his curiosity contained.

She paused and turned back, canting her head slightly, giving him a measured look.

"You told me to not give anyone something with which they could control me."

He placed his garments on top of the ones already on the ground before meeting her gaze. "I fail to see what that has to do with anything."

For a few moments she stood rooted in place but suddenly she sank down on one knee, staring him straight into his eyes. "Because it's more than personal. I knew as it happened it would have repercussions many years later. You think only love can be used against someone? I have no such ties, but I have principles, things I have vowed never to accept again. Perhaps that may seem feeble to you, but I can assure you, if tried, I would stick to them."

He couldn't hold back a smirk. "I already know you have strong principles. It's quite obvious, and I'm not the only one in the company who has noted this."

"But you do not know what inspired them and just how deeply they run."

"True, but if I should wish to sow discord I do not need to know this. In fact, you have already revealed that though you indeed are a loyal subject, there is a limit. Thranduil can sleep soundly at night as you would be hard pressed to harm him over your principles, unless he actively threatened your own life, but you would disobey him if pushed too far."

The smirk faded, and he angled his head slightly as he studied her. "The control you are speaking of is not of that nature. It's about truly knowing you. A sentiment I can well understand."

Oddly enough she smiled, although there was little mirth in it. "I know a lot about the king-in-exile, the one who earned the name Oakenshield in Azanulbizar, but almost nothing about Thorin."

"As I know plenty about the captain of Thranduil's guard, but very little about Tauriel. I suspect you share my inclination to keep it this way," he nodded.

"And yet you ask me to give you such knowledge? What do I get in return?" she asked, keeping her tone light.

"Something equal."

"I have no way of knowing it's truly equal."

"I suppose not," he admitted. He pushed down his urge to give her reassurance that he was honourable, because words were only that – words.

"If you are genuine, show good faith. Without it, I will reveal nothing." The lightness was gone in an instant, and she stood, looking down at him again. "Goodnight." With that she turned and left.

It was a dismissal and a challenge, but it only made him smile as he watched her stride across the camp. An eye for an eye – a concept he definitely understood, though very few would ask it of him.

…

Of all the things Thorin could have chosen to reveal as a show of good faith, his mother's passing was not one of the things Tauriel had expected. Naturally she knew Thranduil's refusal to aid the refugees had had effects – the Valar knew she had faced some of them as a newly appointed captain – but she had not believed Thorin to be one to suffer such a personal loss in the wake of Smaug's attack and Thranduils's decision.

It seemed petty now, having demanded something in return for her to give an insight into her internal battle. There was nothing she could share that matched such a loss. The seemingly endless stream of people she'd faced and helped as best she could despite the orders she had, the conflict and how what had happened then had been a turning point in her life, after which she had slowly begun to change and how she was deeply conflicted by her king's decisions – none of that could compare to his experience. She told him as much.

"It's hardly a competition," he had replied, giving her a small smile. "This is the sign of my good faith. I chose it carefully because I wanted you to understand that I value decency and honesty. I do not demand anything from you because I have decided to share this regardless. Not for pity. I do not need it." He made an aimless gesture in the air as he struggled to explain.

"So many of us lost so much and my loss was not greater than others losing their family. I struggled to come to terms with it for years afterwards though. I felt I had a particular responsibility towards my siblings when _amad_ was gone, but my brother lost his life despite my efforts, and I felt like I had failed her. Everything I have done has been ruled by the loss of her and the responsibility that fell upon me, but I failed in my duties."

"I failed to protect my sister from harm as well. Her fear of what could happen to me drove her into a marriage based solely on duty, and I know it hurt her. The ultimate crime was that her husband then died, killed because of his association with our family."

"Now here I am, nearly failing in leading a quest to find the thing that unites the Dwarves, which hopefully will win our home back. I would not have made it through without you." He sighed deeply.

"And I struggle with the curse that hangs over my line, the madness I saw in my grandfather, and my father."

Tauriel was stunned by his words. She had not expected him to be so open-hearted about his losses or fears and what drove him onwards. Why he had chosen to confide in her like this was a mystery, and she did not know how to respond.

"You have not failed yet," she said quietly. "You are here, soon able to put this forest behind you. The mountain is not far away and there is no reason to believe you would fail in taking back your home." For a brief moment she paused.

"It's not failure to accept help along the way, even if that help comes from an Elf." She smirked at him.

"The Thorin entering this forest would not have agreed."

"And the Thorin sitting here now?"

A small smile stole over his features. "I would say it's complicated. Accepting help from friends is no failure, but I do not consider Elves to be friends. Not in general."

"Potential allies?"

"Some. Perhaps."

She couldn't help feeling a bit stung, but she pushed it down. One could not undo damage so easily and quickly; she, if anyone, should understand this.

"But even in such an arrogant race as yours there are those who show true worth, whom I would trust. I know this now. Annoying. Shocking, even." Thorin's eyes sparkled with mischief as he saw her surprise.

"No, accepting help from friends is no failure, and I gladly accept yours," he continued, and his mirth faded.

"You are most welcome," she managed in reply and inclined her head.

"Now remember, I do not demand anything in return for what I have revealed. There is still a significant disadvantage for you. I bow to no one but you do not have the same luxury. If you tell me something, choose with care."

Tauriel turned her eyes to the forest surrounding them and considered this. He was undoubtedly correct, but it seemed dishonest not to return the gesture, and she wanted to tell him about what had weighed on her so long. Suddenly she smiled.

"But you already know."

"As you said, not the details."

"What is the despair over not being able to help people so obviously in need, skirting the boundaries of authority and being faced with an ultimatum, compared to what you went through?" she asked. "In particular since my Lord Thranduil a few decades later declared the matter obsolete and the ultimatum forfeit? Oh, I know he has not forgotten, but he has stayed reasonably true to that declaration."

"Yours could potentially still have dire consequences." He hesitated. "And the heart of the matter is this – you are not only speaking to a fellow traveller through this forest, but also a Dwarven king, one whose blood line has a long standing conflict with your ruler. Thranduil is forced to aid me because someone he can't say no to wills it, but our disagreement is not settled. Even if we were officially allies, some revelations could be seen as treason."

A line of annoyance formed between her eyebrows and for a long while she forced herself to be silent as she thought things through. Thorin studied her calmly as he waited, but there was no sense of intrusion or scrutiny in his gaze.

"Then so be it," she suddenly declared. "I still believe it's a moot point now since you already know the gist of it through off-hand remarks and my slipping in conversations. As I'm not discussing sensitive particulars such as defence strategies, but am focussing on matters that are personal and are many years in the past, I consider it well within my rights to disclose such things to anyone, even a Dwarven king."

He inclined his head.

"Smaug descending on the mountain had repercussions for everyone in this region. The least for us, of course, since we weren't actually harmed by him. Yet it changed me forever. I had lived for so long sheltered in Lothlorien, ignoring the world outside, and I was utterly unprepared for what met me when I came back home. I would not believe my ruler could leave people in despair the way he did. The Men could at least retreat to Lake-Town, but the Dwarves were utterly lost. I was appointed Captain of the guard, with strict orders to keep refugees away. Drive them off with force if necessary."

She swallowed hard. "I interpreted the order in such a way that I didn't let people into the forest, but I did not force them to leave and I organised help. Looking after injuries and people who were ill, distributing food and water, making certain people at least had clothes on their backs."

"I had an argument with our king. He was furious, accusing me of disobeying his orders. I told him I could not watch people die on our doorstep. That it was cruel. His reason was that you had brought it upon yourselves and you must reap what you sow. I reminded him that you no longer had a home, which certainly was punishment enough. The quarrel went on for quite a while, until he admitted that he had not actually forbidden me to aid people and that I had in fact kept our borders closed. But the refugees were to be driven off and I was put charge of getting it done. If I did not accept, he would see it as insubordination and would punish accordingly." She drew a deep and ragged breath.

"And I obeyed."

Tauriel's voice sounded strangled and the lump in her throat made her take several more deep breaths. Silence descended on them. She tried to gather herself to continue, feeling the shame very keenly, unable to so much as glance at Thorin sitting next to her.

"It did not matter that I didn't use force. That I kept aiding as much as I could. I still drove people off, compelled them to leave with nowhere to go."

"For years afterwards I buried myself in the relentless work of keeping our kingdom safe. As I mentioned earlier, our king declared me forgiven later. As this forest has become more and more sick though, it has become harder and harder to keep what happened in the past, and I believe it all to be connected, the Elven harshness and isolationism, the suspicion and same tendency to isolate oneself among you Dwarves, the selfishness among Men, and then the appearance of Smaug, shattering the region, tearing down civilisations and destroying the land."

"When your nephews, Ori, Gisla, and Mari came to us, I knew things had to change, and I was determined to defy my king if necessary. It turned out that there has been no need for it, not really. But the Tauriel who bowed her head once and sent people off to an uncertain future, albeit with a heavy heart, is long gone." Finally she dared to dart a glance at Thorin, who still studied her, unchanged.

"I was warned." She smiled. "Told of your hatred of Elves. Perhaps I saw it as a challenge, but perhaps more because I believed I understood this hatred, I have done what I can to make amends. But just as you feel you have been failing, so do I, because while we may have come to some sort of an understanding, I did not succeed in reaching others of the company. Quite the opposite."

"That may be outside your power to do much about," Thorin sighed. "The influences this forest has on us? I have been spared." He put his hand over the spot where the pendant rested. "But the others have faced the full brunt of it. I can only hope the effects are temporary."

Tauriel nodded. "We will know once we reach Caras Yrn."

They sat in companionable silence for a long while, and Tauriel let her thoughts wander. Her heart was light, reminding her of the days in Lothlorien. It was a quite pleasant feeling, and it made her smile. Bilbo joined them after a while, throwing curious glances at her while they talked about the King's Halls and Caras Yrn, now so close. But how could she explain to the Hobbit how things had changed? It was like a window had been flung open and fresh air was let inside a room that had been closed off for many years. She wasn't certain she should speak of it with the halfling either, considering how personal the conversation between Thorin and her had been.

It wasn't until she retired to her bedroll that she realised she had reasons to be wary of the lightness she felt. The events after Smaug had descended on the mountain had weighed heavily on her and it was liberating finally to have admitted to her part in the exodus, something she hadn't even discussed with Legolas. She treasured Thorin's revelations, which had made it possible for her to confess her wrongdoings and mistakes. Not only that, but she knew he understood and found it in his heart to forgive her. At the same time she had been able to offer support and bolster his confidence.

They were becoming far too close and she should distance herself. The problem was that she did not want to and that, she suspected, held the truth about whether she even could.

o.o.o

Thorin stood watching the calm surface of the lake and he heaved a deep breath, taking in the scents. In the distance the mountain loomed, and he raised his eyes and stared at the sight. Tauriel studied him in the corner of her eye, features carefully schooled.

After reaching the Halls and Caras Yrn, the company had taken a short break from the marching, cleaned up properly, and had their first civilised meal since they left Beorn's. They spent the night in the city among the tree crowns.

It had been pleasant to be home, Tauriel had admitted. It had also been agreeable to see the company looking their best and amusing to watch them liven up. She had been prepared for it though after hearing about Rivendell, and they didn't disappoint. It also seemed like the influence of the forest indeed was temporary, which was a great relief.

The same morning, the last leg of the journey through Mirkwood had begun, and as the sun was sinking below the trees in the west, they stood by the lake shore, gazing at the mountain in the distance. The peak seemed like it was on fire. Tauriel shuddered at the sight and the reminder of what rested within it.

"You're thinking of the dragon," Thorin commented, and she turned her head to look at him.

"Difficult not to," she replied sincerely.

His eyes sought Erebor again and he nodded. "It is." They continued to gaze at the mountain as the company and the Elves set up camp around them. "It's so close. I haven't seen it for so long . . . " His voice broke.

Wordlessly she reached out and put her hand on his arm, pressing it firmly so he'd feel it through the thick layers he was wearing. He tore his eyes from the peak and looked at her hand, then at her and his eyes softened slightly.

A small smile lit up her face. "Soon," she replied. "I believe you will succeed."

No one seemed to be inclined to talk much that evening. The Elves went about their business just as they had during the journey, while the Dwarves ate, smoked their pipes and began settling in for the night, not speaking unless they needed to.

Tauriel felt restless. She made her rounds, and then stood for a long while alone by the waterline, listening to the quiet lapping sound of the water against the pebbles while watching the stars above. The coming day it would be _Mereth Nuin Giliath_ , but this year it would not be celebrated the way it always had been. With the King and his army in the south, and her guard having heightened security, which meant more work, there were precious few left in the city and in the Halls for any celebration. But the stars were there, and she was happy to finally see them again. It had been too long.

Behind the mountain the sky started to catch fire and she smiled at the sight of the bright white sheets meandering over the sky, an unusual display in colour, and so fitting for the time of year. She imagined she caught the faint crackling sound some said could be heard as the light danced over the sky, and her heart swelled, happy and sad at the same time. Happy because she loved this spectacle and the starry autumn sky so dearly, and sad because it would from now on forever mean farewell.

She had pushed it from herself, the fact that in the morning the company would continue towards Lake-Town, while she and her guards would return to their realm. Despite her words earlier, she was well aware that this could be the last she ever saw of these Dwarves. Even if they didn't perish, it was unlikely she would see them again, as she was tied to the forest and hadn't been anywhere else since she returned from Lothlorien almost two centuries earlier. Unless something unexpected happened, she predicted she would continue her work as Captain of the Guard.

Her lungs nearly deflated at the thought of continuing to serve as Thranduil's captain for another 200 years. How would she manage? She did not know. It had been her entire existence for the same amount of time as she had spent in Lothlorien and though it had been trying, and the past had weighed heavily on her, she had felt she had a purpose, that she was doing good things for her people. Suddenly she couldn't imagine doing this for even another year.

As she breathed she noticed her breath formed white clouds. Winter was not far away and this night it seemed they would be reminded of its coming.

It was very late as the Captain of the Guard finally left the shore. The camp was silent as she passed through it and it seemed like everyone but the night watch was asleep. She rolled up in her blanket, and her eyes sought the starry band above. She sighed, then closed her eyes.

. . .

The shore was wrapped in morning mist, painted pink and golden by the sun's first rays, as the Elves watched the Dwarven company set out for Lake-Town. The morning had been as quiet as the evening had been, though more focussed. No time was wasted as they packed up their bedrolls and ate a frugal breakfast. Tauriel could guess why as she studied the surroundings. The hoarfrost was a beautiful sight but also a reminder that Durin's Day soon would arrive.

Thorin had sought her out as the company was about to stir from their breakfast, quite solemn looking. As he sat down next to her, he unfastened the necklace she had given him a few weeks earlier, and held it out at her. She extended her hand, palm facing upwards and he let it settle upon it, though not as elegantly as she once had. When she looked up she saw a small smile curve his lips at the sight. He snorted when she arched her eyebrows at him. "I'm a Dwarf. I'm allowed to not give a damn about elegance."

She coughed a laugh in reply. "And yet, I know you are capable of it."

He shrugged, still smiling. "In the proper company."

She straightened her back and sniffed, which made him chuckle. Doing her utmost to personify Elven grace, she took the necklace and fastened it around her neck, putting it in place where it usually was hidden, and then threw him a glance to gauge his reaction. Her nonchalant mask cracked slightly as she saw the grin on his face.

"You did not lose it," she commented.

"Fortunately not," he grudgingly agreed.

"You know, if you had lost it, I would have found it. Because a strand of Eldar light has been lent to it, it calls to me."

His face darkened. "You and your light and magic."

"It saved you from further injury, and the influence of this forest," she pointed out dryly.

Pinching the bridge of his nose he sighed. "I do feel that I'm no longer wearing it. You may consider its influence minor . . . I do not."

"If we had the powers of old, Mirkwood would still be Greenwood, and I doubt greed, suspicion, and dragons would have torn this land apart. That's the nature of our magic, even when it's weak. It's light, protection . . . love of all things living. It's nothing to fear."

"We fear all magic," he replied pointedly.

"And we cannot change who we fundamentally are. We have magic, some more, some less, but the light we carry – it's what we are."

Thorin let go of his nose met her eyes, and instantly she knew she had to act. She felt tendrils of a shadow reach for him, weave itself around him, almost taunting her. He'd be lost, she knew, sharing the fate with his father and grandfather before him. She knew the cost if that were to happen, the chaos, the loss, even if the army in the south were successful. Possibly weakening herself was a small price to pay to give him a chance to withstand this shadow. She was no Lady of Galadhrim, but she could at least give some respite.

She put her hand lightly on his shoulder and sent a silent plea to the Valar to listen and grant her this wish, to allow her to help and to alleviate, to give strength and to increase the chance of success against the forces he had set out to fight.

" _The grace I have been given, I share it with you._ " The words she spoke in Quenya flowed so easily from her lips, with no uncertainty, and she felt it happen, the drain, stronger than she had expected. Thorin blinked owlishly at her, with a slight squint, and she knew he had seen the light of her fae.

"What did you do?" he rasped, his face revealing the struggle going on inside, how anger and awe warred.

She smiled wearily. "I gave you strength to fight the darkness that consumed your father and grandfather. Unlike the necklace, this you can never lose." Slowly she removed her hand from his shoulder and noticed a slight tremor. Quickly she clenched it into a fist to avoid revealing the effect this had had on her. He looked like he was about to ruffle his feathers and start protesting and fuming so she rose and held out her hand at him, waiting for him to take it and stand.

"Go now and take back your home," she said. Slowly he gripped her forearm, though he didn't actually use it to support himself as he rose. She could hardly reach with her fingers around his arm, its mass further emphasised by his clothes and the vambraces he wore, which amused her slightly.

"Thank you," he said and gave her a long unreadable look, let go of her arm, turned, and strode off.

Not once did he look back as the company set off, heading north towards Lake-Town and Erebor. Tauriel followed them with her eyes for a few minutes and then she left the shore, following the others back to the Woodland Realm.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erebor events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't think I'd be able to get this one out before Christmas, but here it is! Happy Christmas!

_Erebor, November 18_ _th_ _2941 TA, 25_ _days after Smaug's death_

"My prince! Prince Kili!" Kili flinched but turned towards the voice calling for him. A guard came running from the entrance looking wild-eyed.

"What now," Kili growled under his breath and scowled.

The guard all but skidded to a halt and hastily bowed. "Elves!" he sputtered. "And Men!"

Kili's eyebrows arched. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"There's a group of Elves and Men approaching!"

"How many?"

"Difficult to gauge. Fifty or so, perhaps. It's the Elven king . . . and the witch from the . . . the Elf Lady from Lothlorien," he quickly amended as he saw Kili's eyebrows knit.

Kili's attention however was diverted instantly in the direction of the entrance. "Find my brother and Balin. Not a word to anyone else. I'll meet this delegation and bring them in," he ordered firmly. The guard gave him a nod and hurried off, and Kili strode towards the entrance. "Get me a horse! Have five guards follow me!" he called out.

. . .

As they rode up to the mountain, Tauriel had to admit that she was awed by the sight of the absolutely enormous façade that marked the entrance to Erebor. It had been repaired, but in such a way that the memory of Smaug's attack and occupation wouldn't be forgotten. The masonry was charred in places and the new stone used to repair the damage was of a different kind, which would age differently and always remind people that something happened here.

She couldn't help but be astounded by the speed with which the repairs had been made, even if she knew from Bard that a substantial number from the Iron Hills had descended on the mountain immediately after Smaug's death. This kind of rebuilding took time, even in the hands of Dwarves.

Her sharp eyes noticed a horse with a rider, flanked by five figures on foot, coming out of the front gate. She drew a quick breath as she identified the rider as being Kili. Her gaze wandered back over the line of Elves and Men and found Dis. Just behind her was the equally sharp-eyed Celarion, whose attention was solely on the rider making his way towards them.

Thranduil studied the approaching Dwarves calmly without making any comment, not even on the fact that they were all quite heavily armed, even Kili. Tauriel wondered if he would have been this non-confrontational were the Lady of Light not travelling with them. In theory this could be seen as a threat to the safety of Thranduil, Legolas, Galadriel, and Bard. Not that it was, Tauriel knew, but Thranduil could have acted like he expected an assassination simply out of spite.

The Lady Galadriel didn't show anything on the surface but her eyes also were on the Dwarf on his mount. Tauriel studied the two, the Noldo Elf and Longbeard Dwarf. To imagine they were related was difficult, to say the least. On the other hand, to keep people from noticing that Celarion and Kili looked very much alike would be a challenge. Despite Kili's decision to adopt a more Dwarven appearance, anyone observant enough would probably begin to wonder. She feared what could happen if the truth were to come out in the wrong way. She could only hope that people's prejudice would blind them and allow this secret to be revealed in the most sensible way.

Kili stopped just out of range from the mountain at a good spot for them to meet, and waited for them. It was a small reminder that they were in fact on foreign soil, the domains of the Dwarves, Though Kili did meet them at, for them, a secure spot, he would not go out of his way for any Elven dignitaries. He watched them with a grave look on his face until he noticed Tauriel, and a small smile broke the sternness. She returned the smile – impossible to not do it – but kept it guarded, sending him a non-verbal warning with her eyes. Take care.

When they one-by-one came to a halt at the location Kili had chosen, Dis rode forth. The moment he saw her his gravity melted away like a snowdrift in the March sun; at first happy surprise, then a genuine smile spread over his face.

"Amad," he called out with unchecked joy. "Princess Dis," he added, his voice growing thick with emotion and he had eyes only for her. "Welcome home." He bowed his head.

Tauriel felt a peculiar prickle in the corner of her eyes as she watched them. What were foreign dignitaries compared to a mother, a Dwarven princess, sister to the king under the mountain, returning home after exile? They could wait. Thranduil's face was completely blank as was Galadriel's, though Tauriel sensed the warmth in the Lady's eyes. Bard smiled openly, which was hardly a surprise as she was now familiar with his warm and generous personality.

Dis urged her horse to continue onwards and rode past Elves, Men, and accompanying guards, halting next to her son. She reached out and Kili instantly caught her hand, beaming at her with eyes which had a suspicious sheen to them. Tauriel couldn't see Dis face, but she guessed hers was no less emotional.

"Thank you," Dis finally said, barely audible.

No one moved, allowing them to have this moment in peace for as long as it would take. Tauriel blinked away her tears and composed herself and noticed she was not the only one who had been similarly touched.

Kili eventually turned his attention to the waiting group, though he didn't immediately relinquish his grip on his mother's hand. He gave them a nod and his eyes found Galadriel, whom he greeted with a warm smile.

"Welcome to Erebor," he said and his eyes slid over to Bard. The two shared a few moments of wordless communication before Kili eventually turned to Thranduil. The smile thinned and the nod he offered was a minimal one.

Tauriel nearly gasped at the subtle snub of King Thranduil. Greeting Galadriel first was quite in order, considering her status, but to put Bard before Thranduil, that had a sting to it. Now, Thranduil would have to grin and bear it as he knew just who this young Dwarf was related to, but Kili did not yet know, which showed how politically reckless he was. Such a Dwarven thing to do, she thought, and fought the smile threatening to ruin her outwardly composure.

They set in motion again, heading towards the entrance. Kili positioned himself between Dis and Galadriel, conversing lightly with the Elven lady and his mother. Thranduil followed stiffly behind, along with Bard, who Tauriel was certain found the situation mildly amusing, though he hid it under a veneer of smiling politeness.

Tauriel turned her head, glanced behind her, and met Celarion's acute gaze. He was doing his best to guard himself, but she could tell he was unsettled. Who wouldn't be in such a situation?

There was plenty of time to gape at the architecture as they arrived, which was fortunate because Tauriel found herself unable to tear her eyes from the surroundings at first. It was as impressive as the Halls of her king, but vastly different, with its geometric lines in stark contrast to the organic aesthetic of the Elves. The green marble, brought into submission by hammer and chisel, polished until it shone, was meant to awe everyone entering. It was the sole purpose, which also made the dragon's destruction stand out quite starkly. The display of strength and power had suffered greatly.

Celarion kept his distance, staying in Galadriel's wake, but he followed everything with keen interest. Circling around, with her attention on the surroundings, Tauriel took herself to the contingent from Lothlorien and slipped up next to Celarion.

"Quite the sight," she murmured in Sindarin and shot him a brief look.

"Impressive, yes," he replied blandly and glanced momentarily at the nearest pillars and arches.

"It's fortunate that we're not too unlike in appearance, Dis and I," he continued, his face softening a fraction as he watched Dis having a quiet and sincere exchange with Kili.

Tauriel nodded. "I still think there's a possibility of someone picking up on it."

"You mean I should avoid growing a beard?" A minute smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth and his voice was dry. "I can, you know. Quite a good one too. The benefits of having the blood of Men and Maiar flowing in my veins."

Tauriel's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Now might not be the time to demonstrate such a . . . gift."

"This is not going to be easy." Celarion heaved a deep breath. "I have been spoiled for months, when we could do as we pleased. Even on our journey we have had plenty of privacy. It will be difficult to watch from a distance, in particular since there's no knowing what will happen."

She nodded, but could find no reassuring words. Dis sent Celarion a brief look through the crowd as Kili began to lead the way further inside, before she joined her son and the rest followed them.

"Something is wrong," Celarion suddenly whispered. "Something is very wrong."

His words alarmed Tauriel and she turned her head towards him, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"Thorin. Something is wrong with Thorin," he breathed.

Tauriel drew a quick breath and turned her attention forward. With a brisk nod she began slipping forward in the procession to the place she usually occupied, right behind Legolas. As she fell in place Legolas directed an inquiring look at her, which she responded to with a blank face. She trusted Legolas with her life, but when it came to this, the Dwarves, she didn't trust him at all.

She had not believed it possible to become even more stunned by Erebor's architecture, but as they entered the throne room she realised she had been mistaken. Thranduil's throne room was imposing, but this hall was undoubtedly more monumental. Fleetingly she wondered whether the Dwarves had built this vast space with the Elven Halls in mind, determined to outshine their neighbours.

The colossal hall was almost impossible to take in with its height and depth. Enormous statues lined the walls and the time it took to walk down the wide bridge-like aisle was nigh-on ridiculous. The ever-present green marble had gold worked into it, emphasising the geometric patterns. Ostentatious, Tauriel thought. There was no other word for it. No wonder it had attracted a dragon.

Her eyes were drawn to the centre where she spotted Fili along with a fair number of Dwarves. She found that she recognised those most immediately surrounding the throne – Balin and Ori on one side, and Gisla on the other, with what she suspected was Dain next to her. Looming behind Dain was a grim-faced Dwalin, and Tauriel sensed that his position was not a coincidence. Yes, something definitely was afoot.

Fili watched the Elves sternly as they entered the throne room, and his features only softened when he spotted Dis. When they reached the throne he rose, descended down the steps and wrapped his mother in his arms, then welcomed her with a clear and steady voice before turning to the rest of the gathered group.

Tauriel could barely stay patient during the audience even if it didn't drag on for very long. The only reference to Thorin was an apology for his absence, which didn't shed any light on what was going on at all. Through the crowd she felt Legolas' curious probing but she could only shrug in response.

With the meeting over, the visiting dignitaries and escort slowly filed out of the hall, but as she turned to join them Kili almost bounded over to her and caught her arm with a wide smile.

"Welcome Tauriel! I did not expect you to leave Mirkwood!" he exclaimed, let her arm go, and gave her a sweeping and playful bow.

"Neither did I," she replied dryly and returned the greeting, though not in such a flamboyant fashion. In the corner of her eye she saw Legolas watch them with a poorly disguised disapproval. For a moment she thought he was going to join them and spoil the moment, but instead he was called to join his father, who was being addressed by Galadriel.

"I'm glad you could come." He slowly followed the retreating Elves and Men, and Tauriel fell in at his side, somewhat puzzled as to why he decided to join them instead of his brother and mother. "What do you think?" he asked.

"It needs cleaning," she returned.

Kili's laughter was genuine and carried through the hall for everyone to hear. She saw Legolas turn his head in their direction, looking even less pleased than before.

"We're working on it," Kili nodded with a grin.

"I did not know what to expect since I have never seen a Dwarven city, but I must admit that it's grand, even with the damage the dragon has inflicted."

"It will take time to rebuild, but we will restore it to its former glory. For now it's the basic necessities we're focussing on, but as people's arrivals pick up in earnest, so will the rebuilding." He aimed his eyes at the Elves and Men in front of them.

"We will need help this winter though. We have a steady flow of supplies coming in from the Iron Hills, but we could use more. You grow tired of stockfish rather quickly, you know."

"Snubbing my Lord Thranduil was not the most clever thing you could have done if you wish the Woodland Realm to aid you," she couldn't help reproaching him.

He sneered. "I doubt he'll decline when he catches sight of the gold. That we have. Lots of it."

"And the Lasgalen gems?"

"I would have sent them the moment Smaug was dead."

"But you didn't."

Kili's jaw tightened. "No," he admitted. "It was not my decision to make."

Tauriel sighed. "I was not implying it was."

He smiled at her. "And I didn't take it as such either. But Tauriel, tell me, how are you?"

Puzzled by the question she hesitated for a moment before answering. "I'm well, thank you."

"I've heard a lot about the journey," he said sincerely.

Realisation dawned on her. He knew of her gift to his uncle. "It was . . . difficult. At times. It was not without its reward however." She smiled. "I'm glad I had the privilege to accompany your uncle."

Kili gave her a long look. "You certainly made an impression."

Not knowing how to reply, she only inclined her head.

"But you are truly well?" he pressed on.

"Recovery and adjustment takes time, but I assure you that I'm quite well." She smiled reassuringly.

They arrived in the hall outside the throne room. Tauriel met Celarion's eyes briefly, and she could feel the emotions surging under the composed surface. For a moment she contemplated introducing them to each other, but as she had no logical sham reason to do it, she decided not to.

"Tauriel." Thranduil's voice made her snap her attention to him. He beckoned to her to join him, Galadriel, and Legolas, and she hurried over to them. She was surprised that Kili followed, if with less haste, until she noticed that Galadriel's eyes were on him. Knowing of the Lady's ability to communicate silently, she suspected Kili had been summoned along with her.

Legolas stared at her in the most unnerving manner and she wondered what was happening.

"The Lady Galadriel has made a request that I'm obliged to grant," Thranduil began, as composed as ever, though she noticed a slight stiffness in him.

She noticed that his hands were clenched, a most unusual thing for him to do, and, concerned, she searched his face and was startled as she sensed the sadness she knew he lived with but very rarely had seen. What had Galadriel asked of him that brought it out?

"However, it's for you to choose whether you wish to accept it or not," Thranduil continued calmly though she couldn't detect in his voice what she saw in his eyes. Next to him Legolas slowly paled, looking like he was gradually turning into marble.

She could not verbally articulate in her mind what she knew in that moment, that the Lady had requested that Thranduil let her go, claiming her services. Her heart instantly was torn. Intense joy almost engulfed her but Thranduil and Legolas' obvious distress tempered the jubilant emotion warming her chest.

"Tauriel." Galadriel's mild voice cut through her inner turmoil and Tauriel refocussed on her. "You have served the Woodland Realm well but I believe you have gifts that should be put to better use, rather than to face enemies with a bow in hand. We have important work ahead of us, rebuilding what has been torn down and it is here I think you would make a fine contribution. Would you accept the position as aide, serving Lothlorien?"

Oh, how she burned to accept this! She refused to look at Thranduil and Legolas and instead directed a furtive glance at Kili, who had adopted an inscrutable mask. But as their eyes met she saw the smile in them. Realisation hit her: it would not be her bow and knives that would be her weapons, but her mind, and it would be employed in the service of life rather than death. In that moment her heart made the decision for her.

"It would be an honour. I gladly accept," she replied, and Galadriel broke into a smile. Kili looked equally pleased, and it dawned on her that she most likely would have plenty to do with him from now on, a prospect she couldn't say she opposed. She had friends here in Erebor, she realised. In Dale, too. "When do you wish me to begin?" she asked.

"I see no reason to dawdle, now when we're where your service is needed." Galadriel was still smiling, but a certain firmness in her voice could be detected. She was making it clear that she was taking charge.

"Of course." Tauriel's mind started turning over the practical matters that would be the outcome of this sudden change in her life: bringing her personal effects from Dale – not that she knew where she would take them – acquainting herself with this new task in greater detail . . .

"I expect you would like to have some time with your friends and colleagues nevertheless," Kili said gently, casually moving slightly closer and smiling encouragingly. "I'd be happy to take care of the practical matters for you meanwhile," he continued.

Tentatively avoiding Legolas' stare drilling into her, she smiled at him. "Thank you. I very much appreciate the offer." She inclined her head, feeling a bit dazed.

Kili turned away, motioned for some Dwarves hovering nearby, and started issuing orders. Tauriel hesitated for a beat, then looked over at Thranduil, who gave her a slight nod.

"It grieves me to lose you but I hope you will find joy and contentment in this new life." Emotion had finally seeped into his voice. "You will always be welcome to come back, as a visitor or permanently."

She bowed her head. "Thank you," she mumbled, unable to find anything else to say, but warmed by his words. When she raised her head she noticed that Kili was turning back to her as if he waited for her. Beyond him she spotted the Woodland guards, her colleagues, gathered by the entrance. She gave him a brief and shaky smile and then she started walking in their direction. Kili followed her but when they drew close he touched her elbow to catch her attention. She stopped and looked down at him.

"Take your time to speak with your friends. I'll wait," he said mildly.

"But the Lady Galadriel-" Tauriel protested.

"Is being cared for," he smiled. "Now go and talk to them."

With that he left, and she watched him join a couple of Lothlorien guards who were waiting for him. She turned her head and looked back at the guards, who were regarding her, and she drew a deep breath and resumed walking.

…

Farewells had never been easy and this was no exception. Most of her colleagues took it in stride as they had never been personally close to her. A few lingered however, more solemn. Legolas appeared, too soon it felt, and gave the order to prepare for departure to go back to Dale where they would set up camp. She watched as Thranduil joined them, nodding briefly in her direction, a nod which she returned. They mounted and Thranduil led the way with Legolas following him and the guards bringing up the rear. Not once did Legolas look at her.

For a long while she stood watching them as they disappeared towards Dale, oddly breaking inside, yet with a feeling of having slipped out of a cage. Vaguely she was aware that Kili was nearby, waiting, though not impatiently. When she finally turned away he was there in an instant, offering quiet support as he led the way into the mountain.

"We didn't expect the onslaught of such fancy folk as you this soon, so it's all a bit improvised," he eventually told her. "There are guest quarters for visiting dignitaries, but we haven't touched those yet. Dain prefers to stay with the Iron Hills people and they have settled in the general city area. We have moved into the royal wing, of course." He winked at her.

"I think the best alternative is to put you up there as well." When her eyes widened he grinned. "Don't get excited. It sounds better than it is."

"I feared for a moment that you would put me in some ostentatious apartment."

"Ah, no." He peered up at her. "I suspected you'd appreciate small but decent and warm."

She nodded approvingly. "I expected this task to be handed over to Ori, quite frankly."

"No." He smirked. "I think I'll be forever the one sent to smile and make nice while Fili and Ori are chained to the actual work."

Tauriel's steps faltered and she looked at Kili with astonishment. "You don't feel slighted by that?"

Kili's walk turned into a saunter and he put his hands behind his back, looking playfully thoughtful. "I grew up watching the demands put on Fili, always aware of the political situation in Ered Luin. I was more than happy to steer clear of that." He glanced at her and his eyes glinted.

"So no, I don't feel slighted. I'm privileged. Being second to the throne means I can have all the good things in life my brother has but without the weight of responsibility. And this isn't unimportant. I have my eyes and ears open as I deal with those coming here. It yields . . . results."

Her eyes narrowed. "You've become a spy?"

He shrugged. "I wouldn't put it like that. But I have always had a social skill and it's surprisingly useful in the current situation."

They walked in silence for a good while. "It's a good thing you're also honest and kind, Kili, because you have everything needed to become a very dangerous person."

"I have no intention of becoming one."

"You may need to."

He sighed and his shoulders slumped. "Tauriel, we've had some difficult times lately . . . " he began and then closed his mouth, stealthily darting glances at the surroundings. A couple of Dwarves showed up around a corner and Kili's mask of joviality was instantly in place again.

"I'm glad you could see it, at last." He motioned towards the surrounding architecture, speaking loudly while keeping an eye on the approaching Dwarves.

"It's most impressive," she replied, playing along. "I assume you're going to do the repairs the same way as with the gates?" If they were going to do charades she could just as well ask questions she wanted answers to, she decided.

"It's not yet settled. Some say it's enough to have a reminder at the entrance while others think it should be adopted throughout." Kili let his eyes pan over the space. "It's not my particular area of expertise, so I'm not involved in those discussions." The Dwarves passed them by and Kili nodded at them. They nodded back and eyed Tauriel with poorly veiled suspicion.

"What is your area of expertise? You never told me." She ignored the hostility and focussed on Kili.

With a cheeky grin he looked back at her. "Being annoying? I have much training in that. Ask my brother."

Tauriel snorted. "I believe you."

The mirth evaporated and he was once more sincere when the Dwarves were out of earshot. "Fine metal crafting was always our speciality."

"How do you feel about being here then?" she tentatively probed.

A dark shadow passed over his features. "Difficult," he sighed.

Tauriel glanced around them. "How is the king?" she asked in a hushed tone.

Kili was quiet for a moment. "Not well."

"What's wrong?" she pressed on, turning her head to look at him, betraying her concern.

"We don't know, but he's not himself. Mari has taken it on herself to attempt to find out what it is, which is why she was not present earlier." He shook his head.

"I can't speak about it here. Your quarters are just around the corner. Come." There was no trace of the earlier joviality in his frame as he set off with a determined stride. She hastened to follow him.

. . .

The truth about Thorin was worse than she had expected and with increasing horror she listened to Kili's account of events leading up to her arrival.

"I don't think it's Erebor alone," she said quietly. "He was affected just as everyone else by the creeping menace that is destroying Mirkwood, though I must say, he seemed more sensitive to it than the rest. I don't think the others in his company were aware of his struggles because he fought it with all his might. It would not let go of him though, even as he left Mirkwood. It's why I decided on a more permanent solution than the pendant could offer." Her hand went to the pendant, hidden underneath her clothes and the cuirass. "If that was not enough . . . "

"He is better. Once he was isolated the change was dramatic and now when I see him, he is more like he was before the long winter even. The change happened so quickly I almost couldn't believe it."

"That would suggest that there's something from the outside that is the cause. If it were Erebor itself he'd not recover that much and as quickly since he's still within its walls," she mused. "But it's difficult to know without having examined him."

Kili stared at her. "Would you see him?" he suddenly asked.

Tauriel's eyes widened and she quickly averted her eyes. "Would he accept it in this state?"

"I can't say." Kili threw out his hands. "He has spoken well of you, and you know he's not in a habit to do that about Elves. But the most important thing is that you can sense things we can't, and I trust you to keep it a secret."

She hesitated. With Thranduil she had known exactly where the limits were and she could keep things to herself as long as he didn't ask her directly. Galadriel was far more attentive and would look into hearts and minds if she felt it was necessary. She did not want to give the impression she wasn't trustworthy either so she would have preferred to be open about what she did. "I can't lie. I would not have outright lied to King Thranduil, and it's impossible to lie to the Lady Galadriel. If she wishes it, she will know."

Kili nodded grudgingly. "I'm aware of it. She has most likely already looked into the future and I suspect she has searched me."

Tauriel was not so certain, but she kept it to herself. It would be far easier to look into his brother's heart and mind, not least because Kili most likely would sense even a subtle attempt to find out what was going on. "I do believe I must mention to the Lady if I see Thorin. I can't keep that from her."

"It's not from the Lady Galadriel I wish to keep the truth," he sighed. "Please Tauriel. If we don't find out what's happening, we may have to . . . make the current situation a permanent one," he pleaded.

She stepped closer, staring at him. "What are you saying?"

He averted her eyes, aiming them at a spot on the floor. "If he can't rule, he can't be king."

"What would you do to him?" Her voice was devoid of inflection.

Sighing he closed his eyes briefly. "We haven't discussed it."

"What. Would. You. Do. To. Him." Her words were clipped and cold, her eyes like shards of green glass, and anger gave an edge to her voice.

Kili opened his eyes and watched her with surprising calm, and then softly said, "Tauriel, he's my uncle. While Dwalin was like a father in everything but name, Thorin was a close second. I love him. The reason why we haven't discussed it is because we don't want to accept that this could become a permanent condition of his. Not yet. This is why I'm asking you, nay, I'm begging you Tauriel – help us."

She blinked. To her embarrassment she realised she had misread the situation completely and by doing so, revealed far too much of her own interest in the matter. Ducking her head she turned her back to him then closed her eyes for a moment while breathing calmly to regain her composure. She stilled the anger, and pushed back her emotions.

His quiet steps as he repositioned himself made her opened her eyes, and she caught him watching her thoughtfully, letting a minute pass by in silence.

"Are you certain you are well?" he asked gently.

Vigorously she nodded. "Quite."

"Then will you tell me what just happened? I have never seen you this . . . unsettled." He made a vague motion with his hand. Her mouth was dry and her mind blank and she dropped her eyes to the floor. He closed the distance between them and put his hand on her arm looking up at her with unchecked concern.

"There is nothing-" she started protesting but stopped. "I'm not ill. But it's something that I will never be able to rid myself of unless I fade and die."

Kili's eyes widened. "The gift? That's what it did to you?"

Involuntarily she smiled softly. "No. But my heart will never be the same again. Not after those weeks escorting your uncle through Mirkwood."

Realisation dawned on him and his grip on her arm tightened. "I should have understood the reason why you acted the way you did. Does he know?"

"I have not told him, no. Whether he suspects anything . . . I'm unable to tell. For some reason I lost my ability to know his emotional state. I sense nothing. Perhaps . . . that's the way it is when it's not returned."

Kili dropped his hand to his side and slowly walked over to the embrasure in the room, leaning his forearm against the wall as he peeked through the narrow opening. With a deep breath he hung his head for a moment.

"He holds a deep disdain for Elves. You alone of your kind hold his respect, but that's all you can ever hope for. And he would never allow anyone to know nor anything to happen, should he harbour any deeper feelings for you. He'd take such a thing with him to his grave."

Her back was rigid as she studied Kili. There was nothing but sympathy in what he said, blunt as it was. He was honest, and that she appreciated. "I'm well aware of this," she replied quietly.

He turned to look sharply at her. "And you lot fade and die once you lose the one you love."

At that she smiled. "We're not like the Sindar or the High Elves. To us it's not as frightening to fade and become one with the world around us."

With a deep sigh he turned his attention back to the world outside. "He has sixty, perhaps seventy years left. About as much as Mari has." Pain started to creep into his voice as he spoke. "It's not a lot of time. And that's if nothing untoward happens of course. Now you as well."

"Fading takes time," she said gently.

"You wouldn't consider leaving for Valinor?"

She considered it for a while. "It's not our way," she said evasively.

"But if you were given the option?"

"I don't think so. I doubt it would really ease the pain, only replace one with another. I'd ache for Middle Earth."

He nodded and kept staring through the opening, lost in thought. Despite everything she couldn't help smiling. If there was anyone she had counted on to be supportive, it had been Kili, and he hadn't disappointed.

"I will help. If he agrees to see me I'll do what I can," she said with a steady voice.

Kili looked up at her and nodded slowly. "Are you ready to see him?"

"I am."

"Then we do so now."

o.o.o

Kili knocked on a nondescript door before cracking it open, peeking inside. He froze and for a moment Tauriel feared something very serious had happened, but then he relaxed and released the breath he had been holding. He glanced over his shoulder.

"They are asleep," he announced quietly, and entered, apparently expecting her to join him.

Hesitantly she looked inside and saw Kili sink down next to what had to be Mari, huddled under a couple of blankets, reaching out to carefully wake her. Tauriel stepped through the door and closed it behind her and then turned her attention to a spot just beyond Kili. Against the wall Thorin sat slumped in sleep. Though these were hardly conditions fit for a king, it was clear he was not treated poorly. He was chained up, but he was dressed well and warmly, his hair and beard well-kept, even if he appeared a bit rumpled because he had fallen asleep on the floor.

The cot was occupied by Mari, but as she woke up she seemed surprised to be where she was, and sighed as she looked over at Thorin.

"He must have put me here after I fell asleep," she whispered.

"You promised you'd be careful," Kili admonished her.

"I have. He's doing better every day, and we've made a lot of progress. Which you would know if you'd been home more lately." She smiled to take the edge of the reproach. Kili winced and she patted him on his arm. "It's fine."

Tauriel slowly moved forward and sank down just out of arm's reach from Thorin, studying him.

"Tauriel!" Mari squeaked. Scrambling to free herself from the blankets, Mari quickly made it down to the floor where Tauriel was kneeling. "How are you?" Mari breathed and smiled.

Touched by the open friendliness Mari showed, Tauriel glanced down at the floor for a moment before responding. "I'm in good health, thank you." A smile broke out. "And you?"

"I'm fine. Oh Tauriel, I'm so glad to see you! I have been thinking a lot about you. I heard . . . " Worry suddenly furrowed Mari's brow.

"Everything is fine," Tauriel assured Mari, who seemed to breathe easier.

Mari turned to Kili. "I apparently slept through all the fun," she said dryly.

"If you by fun mean holding an intense ignoring contest with an Elven king – yes," Kili replied with a grin.

"You seem to have come out of it unharmed," Mari commented with a lopsided smirk.

"I'm getting better at it. I'm only there to ease tension somewhat and add to my dear brother's grandeur, which helps."

"He's much too modest. Don't believe him," Tauriel cut in. Kili shrugged and a slight blush coloured his cheekbones. With a small smile Tauriel turned her attention back to Thorin.

"He sleeps poorly," Mari said solemnly. "His dreams are unpleasant. It's the second time I have woken up on the cot with him on the floor." She sighed. "He struggles off and on with that thing that threatens to overcome him, and sometimes he loses. Relinquishing his bed is a way to apologise for what he does and says, I think." Tauriel nodded.

"It's like there's this . . . like he's two people," Mari added. "You see when the Other comes out. Watch his eyes."

Tauriel closed her eyes and let her senses work. Though she couldn't look into his emotions it didn't affect her ability to sense physical ailments or issues, and she detected the unmistakeable tendrils that had been reaching for him in Mirkwood, even if it was less prominent than during their journey. It was faint however, at least for now. "The Other don't come out very often, does it?" she asked.

"No," Mari agreed. "A few times, but he has also been able to fight it."

Kili kept in the background, with his eyes on his uncle. Tauriel noted the affection in them which made her breathe easier with relief.

"I can't sense the darkness here the way I felt it as they travelled with me and my guard," she informed them.

"It was a steady decline all the way from the moment we met in Lake-Town until he was put in isolation. There was a noticeable difference compared to when we last saw him in the Shire last year, so this process started before Lake-Town. No one seems to be able to answer when it started to go downhill, but it seems that it began before they arrived in Mirkwood." Mari glanced at Thorin's sleeping form. "It's frustrating. This is where time lines have diverted and I have no idea what could have brought this on."

Tauriel nodded but her brow furrowed. "I sense it's something we have overlooked, something hiding in plain sight," she mused.

Mari nodded. "Well, then that makes two of us. I feel the same way." The two women locked eyes for a few seconds. The control Tauriel imposed on herself not to probe her friends slipped slightly and involuntarily she read Mari, very briefly. For a heartbeat she stilled before tearing her eyes away, and reluctantly she darted a glance at Kili and realised he was unaware of what was affecting Mari. She wondered at his ignorance, but reminded herself that she didn't know to what extent he could sense things, and if he understood such signals. Mari seemed equally oblivious, but that didn't surprise Tauriel. It meant however that this was something that needed to be disclosed with care and most certainly not right now.

Firmly pushing it from her, she turned her attention to Thorin instead.

"Do you think we can rouse him?" she asked. "It's not right to come here without his knowledge."

Mari nodded. "Go ahead."

Slowly, like a cat, Tauriel moved forward and reached out to wake him. As she almost touched his shoulder he opened his eyes and stared at her, freezing her motions.

"Is this a dream?" he demanded.

Tauriel pulled back her hand and tilted her head. "No, but I am uncertain of how to prove it to you," she replied.

Thorin's eyes flickered to Mari and Kili and he seemed to relax a fraction. Kili smiled at Thorin and then rose to his feet.

"Mari, love, I think you need to stretch your legs for a while," he said and reached out to help her on her up onto her own feet. With mild confusion she looked up at Kili, but allowed him to pull her up and to begin guiding her out of the chamber. The two disappeared out the door, leaving Tauriel and Thorin alone.

Thorin glowered at her. "I'm in the embarrassing situation that my joints have stiffened and I need to begin moving to get rid of the pain, with you watching me no less. It's enough to destroy anyone's confidence."

Tauriel stood and extended her hand with a challengingly raised eyebrow. With a snort he gripped her forearm, and bracing herself she helped him to his feet. His movements were tentative, and he scowled as he straightened, sucking in a breath. "Though I would like to think very little has changed over the years, my joints don't agree with that. Sleeping like this was never a treat though."

"You have a bed," Tauriel pointed out, ignoring the fact that he still held onto her arm.

"She's always there, watching over me, helping me, talking to me. There seems to be no limits to her care but I . . . " He sighed. "I know why it's her. She's the most expendable in everyone's eyes but Kili's. She knows it, and yet it doesn't affect her. There's nothing else I can do for her but give her my bed when she collapses after many long hours." Raising his eyes he studied the door thoughtfully for a long while. "She's not doing well."

Slowly she started pulling back and Thorin's eyes snapped back to her, and his grip became vice-like. His eyes were sharp and hard as flint.

"And now the vultures are gathering. I suppose you didn't come here on your own." His voice was harsh and gravelly.

"No, I came here as part of Lord Thranduil's entourage," she admitted.

He yanked his hand away and turned from her, widening the space between them.

"There has been a slight change since I arrived though," she blurted. "The Lady Galadriel is also part of the delegation, and she requested that I should be released from my position as captain of the guard and become an aide, serving Lothlorien. King Thranduil agreed. As did I, for that matter. I'm no longer in his service."

Thorin snorted. "Not better." He glowered at her and she winced inwardly at the coldness in his eyes.

"The king is setting up camp outside Dale," she continued. "Bard, his children and quite a large number of residents from Lake-Town and its surroundings have also arrived, settling in Dale, keen on beginning the restoration. I expect there will be plenty of formal diplomatic functions and discussions, and the rebuilding of Dale will begin in earnest." She paused for a moment.

"The Lady Galadriel and her entourage will stay here in the mountain for now." A quick smile lit up her face. "And we brought a surprise."

Thorin arched an eyebrow at her. "I doubt I'm going to like it."

Tauriel continued to smile which made him narrow his eyes. "When the army returned to the Woodland Realm it brought with it not only the Lady of Light, but also someone who is close to you. Your sister, Princess Dis, is here."

His face closed off, and Tauriel's smile faded. "Truth?" he demanded.

"Truth," she replied firmly.

He turned towards the wall as his chin sank towards his chest. He did not wish to be seen this way, she realised, Carefully she stepped closer, lifted her hand and gently touched his shoulder. He didn't flinch away but his jaw clenched.

"She knows. Kili told her immediately," she added. His eyes fell shut. "Have faith in her."

"What are you doing here Tauriel?" he asked with a weary voice, opening his eyes again, though he didn't turn to face her. Nor did he shrug her hand off.

"We discovered on arriving that you were not present, but no explanation was given. As I had the privilege to speak with Kili, he explained the situation. He asked me to see you."

"Do _they_ know?"

For a moment Tauriel was confused. "Who?" she asked.

"The Elven king and the witch from Lorien."

Her nostrils flared slightly at the way he disparaged Galadriel. "No one has informed them. However, the Lady Galadriel most likely knows without being told."

Thorin squared his shoulders, and haughtily directed his gaze to her. "What's your verdict then?"

"It's too soon to tell what's causing this," she replied.

"I'm deemed unfit to rule. By my own kin! My most loyal and trustworthy people have put me in chains . . . " His voice broke and he turned away again.

Her heart bled for him in that moment and she instinctively squeezed his shoulder. He flinched away from her and she let her hand drop to her side.

"This whole situation is puzzling me," she begun explaining. "Naturally I was told what led to this, but neither Mari nor I understand how or exactly why it's happening. I . . . sense things, but it's confusing."

"Don't come near me with that Elven magic of yours! No more!" he hissed and staggered further away from her.

With a heavy heart she began to retreat when she remembered Mari's words about the Other, and she rounded him instead and gazed intently at him.

"Leave me alone!" he growled tersely.

"No, I don't think I will," she said resolutely, as her senses grew alert. She was still unable to search his heart, but the alien shadowy presence she felt quite clearly and how it rallied and muddled his mind.

He staggered away from her and stumbled on the chains, lost his balance, and fell heavily to the floor.

"Thorin!" she exclaimed and was at his side the next second, reaching for him. He scrambled backwards, snarling at her, but she paid no heed and as he hit the unmovable object that the wall was, she caught up with him and put her hand on his chest. She instantly felt the response from the light she had parted with, and she focused on it, driving out the darkness having wrapped itself around him. His arms went up as if to shield himself and he turned away from her and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Too bright," he wheezed, but she did not let go, and gradually, as the shadow abated, the tension drained out of him and he opened his eyes again.

The heavy door was flung open and Kili shot through it and landed on his other side. Mari followed him and swerved in behind Kili, sinking down to the floor too.

"Uncle!" Kili called out and quickly started to examine him.

Thorin was clearly embarrassed as he started batting Kili's hands away. Tauriel sat back on her heels, retracted her hand, breaking the connection.

"I'm fine," he growled between clenched teeth. With a sigh Kili sat back too while Mari swiftly went to pour a mug of water which she handed to him.

"I'll ask for something to eat," she said as Thorin accepted the mug. She rose and disappeared out the door, closing it behind her.

"Stop looking at me like that," he groused and Kili and Tauriel glanced at each other.

"I must speak with Mari," Tauriel murmured to Kili.

"Tauriel . . . " Thorin looked up from the mug in his hands and she met his eyes. "I apologise."

"There's no need to," she replied gently. He studied her from under his brow, clearly conflicted. "There are some things I need to see to, but I will be back soon." She rose and exited the room, leaving Thorin and Kili alone. With Tauriel gone, Kili allowed himself to smile slightly as he watched his uncle. Thorin drank slowly, attempting to ignore his nephew.

"You just apologised to Tauriel," Kili commented.

"My actions were hardly appropriate," he sighed.

Kili pursed his lips to avoid breaking into a grin, but his eyes twinkled with amusement.

"Wipe the smirk off your face," Thorin growled and glared at his nephew.

Kili composed himself, looking like the picture of innocence. "Yes, Uncle," he replied humbly.

Thorin grunted and emptied the mug. "You're not fooling me with that look. Now, tell me what's happening," he said, changing the subject. "So the witch has shown up along with Bard and Thranduil. What does she want?"

Kili looked hurt and confused. "Tauriel is no witch."

"I'm not talking about Tauriel." Thorin shook his head in annoyance. "The Lady Galadriel."

"Who's not a witch either," Kili replied calmly. "But yes. She, Thranduil and Bard arrived earlier, some diplomatic nonsense was exchanged, the Men and Thranduil's Elves went to settle in Dale while Galadriel decided to stay here. That's about how far it has come. I expect this to be the beginning of a long-winded process where Bard and his people begin rebuilding Dale and its trade so they are keen on diplomatic relations. As are we for that matter, because though we have things to trade with, we can't eat metals and stones and the Iron Hills can't sustain us forever. Thranduil is getting involved because the Elves did everyone a service and they want something for it. Galadriel . . . I'm not quite certain." Kili paused, looking pensive.

"The first thing she did as they arrived here, something she could have done long before but didn't, was to take Tauriel from Thranduil. It was made in public, right after they had been received by Fili." Kili shook his head. "That must have been deliberate."

"You asked her to see me. Why?" Thorin asked, clearly displeased.

"Because she can sense things the rest of us can't and she's the only Elf I'd trust to reveal the truth to."

"Truth." There was scorn in Thorin's voice.

"You are not yourself and you know it. Mari is convinced, and Tauriel agrees, that it's something from the outside affecting you. I'm inclined to agree with them." Kili spoke with emphasis and authority and then his brow softened slightly. "If they are correct, it's a good thing."

"She's an Elf," Thorin groused.

Kili arched an eyebrow. "Imagine that. I would never have guessed. I also fail to see how it matters in this situation."

Thorin sneered and glared at his nephew. "You remind me of your mother right now. Always chiding me for my opinions on those pointy-eared bastards."

Drawing a breath, Kili hesitated. "About mam . . . "

"Yes, yes. I know she's here," Thorin grumbled and turned away, looking agitated.

"She will want to see you."

"I don't want her to see me like this." There was a note of anguish in Thorin's voice.

"Mam has already asked to see you." Kili watched the emotions march over his face, and he scooted closer, reached out and very gently pulled his uncle into an embrace. Thorin relented and returned it.

Thorin pulled out of the embrace, caught Kili's eyes and then slowly nodded.

The door opened and Mari entered. "They'll bring enough of the midday meal for us three," she smiled and crossed the floor.

Kili brightened. "I haven't had anything since breakfast and I'm feeling half-starved after the diplomatic nonsense I had to live through earlier."

"You're always half-starved, Kili." A reluctant smile tugged at Thorin's lips.

"You may be on to something," Kili replied, rose and began rearrange the table and chairs in the chamber. Meanwhile Mari checked the fire, raking out the ashes and adding some peat. Kili joined her and Thorin busied himself with getting on his feet and stretching some, careful to not fix his eyes on them, giving them a few private moments. He had ears though, and he didn't miss the concern Kili showed and Mari brushing it off.

"But you keep losing food," Kili insisted, keeping his voice barely above a whisper.

"The infestation is being dealt with and once it's all cleaned out I'm sure I'll be fine again," Mari returned stubbornly.

Kili sighed and Thorin stared at the embrasure, almost echoing Kili's sigh. In the current situation he couldn't order her to see a healer, and no one thought to hint about this to Fili. He believed he knew what was causing Mari's suffering, but he didn't know how to broach the subject. He clenched his hands into fists in frustration.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lake-Town!

_North Rhovanion, September 2941 TA_

The journey west was as uneventful as could be expected in late summer and early autumn, travelling with a fairly large group of Dwarves. They steadily trudged on, leading their rugged ponies and wagons laden with necessities and equipment for the coming dragon-slaying. It reminded Mari of the first leg of their journey, more than a year ago, and as the days passed, the more contemplative she became, thinking back.

It was no understatement to say a lot had happened since she arrived in Middle Earth three years earlier. Though she for the most part felt the same, she knew she wasn't. She wondered what it would be like to go home, what it would feel like. Once she had been prepared to do almost anything to find a way back, but now when she thought about it, she couldn't imagine leaving. She wouldn't talk about it with anyone, but she did fear waking up one morning, only to discover she had been yanked back to her own world. Though she was certain she had died to come here, when magic was involved nothing could be taken for granted.

Secretly she abhorred magic. Some of it wasn't so bad, but as with everything there were two sides to the coin, and the bad side was, in her opinion, grim. It left her feeling helpless and demoralised. She tried to remind herself that it was what certain forces hoped to achieve and that just like water always did, she too could find a way through obstructions. Not by using strength or abilities she didn't have, but by using her mind. Perhaps it wouldn't be enough, but she wouldn't know unless she tried. But she found it more and more difficult to convince herself the closer to Erebor they got.

Kili noticed her reticence, of course. It was becoming increasingly difficult to hide anything from him and she started considering if she should tell him what she had learned back in Mirkwood. She hadn't said anything about the conversation she'd had with Tauriel, and he hadn't asked either. She feared that if she told him she knew he was well, she'd reveal the truth and she had no idea what would happen if she did.

How would he react? Their family and friends? She didn't quite trust Fili not to have a brain fart again, and what if more people found out? This was the kind of revelation that would rip through the Dwarven community. The effects could become cataclysmic and not just for them personally.

There were moments when Mari couldn't help but feel angry with Dis who had created this situation by withholding the truth about Kili's father. It had deprived him of a father, not to mention knowledge about abilities he had and could develop. On the other hand, she understood why Dis had chosen to not speak of it, and when she reminded herself of the reasons for Dis' silence, her anger died and she felt ashamed for even thinking such things.

It was unclear whether Kili knew he was constantly tapping into her emotional responses to the world around them and her own musings. He might not be aware, but if he was, he didn't know how not to do it. It wasn't Dwarven, so how could he know? There had been no one to teach him how to handle that part of himself, and Mari had absolutely no idea how it was done. If she were to bring it up, she would have to reveal the secret. . . and just about there she shut down all thoughts, terrified he'd somehow one day actually sense real thoughts, not just her emotions.

She still believed it was better for her to know than worry about whether he was dying or not, but this knowledge was a burden, and it was weighing more and more on her with each passing day.

. . .

"Why is Mari so distant?" Fili asked as he studied his brother's One. She was lying on her back studying the darkening sky at some distance from the rest of the camp.

Kili didn't look up from his sewing. "You know she takes what's coming very seriously." His fingers continued to work on darning the sock in his hand as he replied.

Fili kept his eyes on Mari while he lit his pipe. "She's not talking to you."

Kili scowled. "There's a time and place for everything, and my demanding answers from her is not going to make anything better. I already know what troubles her. Or some of it anyway."

Making a smoke ring, Fili glanced at Kili and the corners of his mouth turned up. "She's been here three years now."

Kili looked up at Fili and then turned his head towards Mari with a slight smile.

"Such a short time. Feels a lot longer though," Fili continued.

"You know, I was longing for change back then. Growing restless." Kili chuckled and shook his head.

Fili snorted. "Well, you certainly got what you wished for."

Focussing on his needle and thread again, Kili nodded. "I had no idea what it would lead to when I spotted her peeking into the forge that day. You'd think you'd recognise when something that important happens, but I didn't. We exchanged a few words and then she left. It was quite uneventful. The only thing that stood out was the she seemed like an oddity among the Hobbits in more ways than just the way she looked." He looked up. "And after that I kept running into her everywhere I went that autumn, even when I wasn't looking for her."

Fili exhaled the smoke and shook his head. "You were lost very early, weren't you?"

"Truth? From the very beginning," Kili admitted. "I just didn't understand at first, and when I did, I was quite prolific in lying to myself."

"In that particular aspect we're quite similar."

Shooting Fili a quick look, Kili grinned. "You certainly keep some things to yourself. I don't think anyone guessed the real reason behind your awkwardness around Gisla."

Fili shrugged. "We're all secretive." He looked up at Mari who was being joined by the Iron Hills chief healer Lif and Gisla. She pushed herself up from the ground and smiled at the other two women. "I sometimes wonder though, if Mari isn't the most secretive of us all."

A knowing smile stole over Kili's face.

"You don't agree." Fili sighed.

Kili shrugged.

"Knowing _something_ is wrong isn't the same thing as knowing _what_ it is that's wrong."

"Use your common sense, brother. I believe you know her better than you think."

Fili gave Kili a long look before he turned his eyes back to the women having a hushed conversation.

"She's losing faith. There's something more, but that I won't be able to draw out of her, I think." Kili's solemn voice cut into Fili's musings.

"Fear for your health?" Fili suggested.

Kili paused and looked up with a frown. "No. Or. . . perhaps, but it's not like before. It's. . . about me, but not worry in the same way."

"You are the master of cryptic replies these days," Fili retorted tartly. "It seems you picked up more than just elementary Sindarin from our friends in the woods."

Slowly Kili went back to his needle work. "What can I say? It's difficult to give simple answers when matters are complicated."

Sighing Fili nodded. "Aye. I suppose so."

They sat silently for a long while, Kili focussing on his mending and Fili smoking while studying the trio conversing easily. Ori came trudging over to the brothers and was greeted with a nod from them both as he sat down. His eyes also went to the three women and Fili shifted his focus to his friend.

"Ori, you never avoided Mari and Gisla before. Why now?" Fili asked.

Ori's eyes darted away from the trio and his gaze landed on his hands, while a faint discolouration tinged his cheeks. "I'm not avoiding them," Ori replied quietly.

Kili looked up and considered Ori for a moment. "I'm quite certain she won't mind if you joined them, you know."

Fili nodded. "She's good fit. Clever and decent. No wonder she gets along with Mari and Gisla. And you. I think even Dori could-"

Ori hissed. "Don't bring him into this."

"Sooner or later you'll have to, if I'm reading this correctly. Unless you are planning on declining, of course." Fili chewed on the pipe and glanced at Kili who briefly made eye contact with a distinct twinkle in the eye.

A look of pure distress on Ori's face made Fili arch an eyebrow. "Why is this such a touchy subject?" he asked.

"You were pretty sensitive and tongue-tied too back in winter, if I remember correctly," Kili cut in with a bland voice.

Fili's eyebrows shot up and he gestured theatrically at Ori. "Not nearly like that!"

Kili made a slight wiggly motion with his head and smirked.

"Besides, you're one to talk. What about your brooding and anguished behaviour not too long ago back in the Shire?" Fili continued surly. To his surprise Kili chuckled.

"You were both quite unbearable at times," Ori sighed and shook his head.

"Well, rejoice Ori. It seems you don't need to do anything this evening after all. They're coming here," Kili announced with a small smile on his lips.

And indeed, just as Fili looked up, Mari slowly rose with the others following suit. Ori's eyes were firmly glued to the ground and Fili shook his head. "If nothing else, remember we have a task to complete. We must be able to discuss matters between us." A note of sincerity crept into Fili's words.

Startled, Ori raised his eyes. "Of course! I'll not let it affect that," he returned gravely.

Fili quelled a sigh as he watched Ori steel himself to face Mari, Gisla, and Lif as they approached. He could only hope that Ori wouldn't drown in a vat of duty, ending up pushing Lif away. On the other hand, Lif was intelligent and had plenty of experience with people thanks to her profession. She should be able to see through Ori's awkwardness. She was clearly not put off by Ori's lack of flamboyance nor his dedication to knowledge derived from books anyway. His commitment to their quest was perhaps exactly the thing needed to convince her he was what she was looking for.

He turned to smile at Gisla who sat down in such a way that the only other empty spot available was next to Ori. Lif hesitated and glanced at Mari, who rounded Kili and eased herself down between him and Fili. Before she was even sitting down, she and Kili were bickering good-naturedly about whether or not she was disturbing his mending work. Lif turned back to Ori and smiled slightly, then sat down. Shyly Ori returned the smile. Fili aimed his attention back to Gisla, who looked like the picture of innocence. Fili snorted, managed to inhale the smoke the wrong way, and started coughing. Mari turned towards him and hit him hard between the shoulder blades until he shook his head and swatted her hand away.

"I'm fine," he wheezed.

"You should stop smoking, Fili. Remember what I told you," Mari said matter-of-factly.

"I very much doubt you will convince any Dwarf to give up the pipe, no matter the ailments you threaten them with." Lif grinned widely at them.

"No, they seem stubborn that way," Mari admitted breezily and then yelped as Kili stabbed his finger between her ribs.

"Who are you calling stubborn?" he asked, and they all laughed heartily. In an instant the tension was gone and the conversation flowed easily with plenty of laughter between them.

Fili glanced at Lif. Yes, she was a good fit, he decided, both for Ori and for them as friends.

o.o.o

_Lake-Town, September 2941 TA_

So as not to draw too much attention to themselves and to preclude questions like why unusually many Dwarves were congregating near the Lonely Mountain, it was decided that most would stay by the mouth of River Running, set up camp there, and wait until they could continue to Erebor. The Durins, Mari, and a few of the Iron Hills Dwarves continued onwards to Lake-Town to wait for Thorin and his company.

Lake-Town was not quite what Mari had expected. Yes, it was situated on the lake, houses built on stilts with canals for any kind of floating vessel, wider and narrow, with walkways and bridges for those traversing the town on foot. However, it was connected to land by several bridges and on land there was a development specifically for the part of trade which didn't lend itself well to a city on water, such as large storage and housing animals like oxen and horses.

They arrived in late afternoon and by early evening they could finally enter the town, after much passive-aggressive scrutiny from the city guard. They were specifically interested in Fili, who had to part with some of his less well-hidden weapons. Clenching his teeth he bore it quietly, but only just.

"We have rules about weapons in this town. We're civilised, unlike some other folk I could mention, and we don't go about waving swords and knives at each other when solving our differences," one of the guards declared, looking down his nose at them.

Mari managed to refrain from smirking at him even when she by chance met Kili's steady and challenging gaze. He seemed to see right through her thin veneer and she had to turn away before she lost it and started laughing.

Ori soothed the ruffled feathers on all fronts by asking for recommendations on suitable inns where they could stay. He promptly was given names and directions by the pleased guard.

"You realise they chose inns that suit them, easy to keep under surveillance with walls that have ears!" Fili hissed as they made their way to one of the named inns.

Ori smiled mildly. "Of course. It will also make them complacent, and hide our true reason for being here. If we had a clandestine agenda we wouldn't so readily agree to being watched, more or less openly." He darted an amused look at Fili who was still fuming. "Sugar also commonly works better than vinegar, in particular when dealing with the less intelligent kind of authorities."

Fili grunted and reluctantly nodded in agreement.

"Don't let the situation with your weapons vex you. I will go through the procedures to claim them back. I'm confident we'll have them by the time we must leave."

Mari smiled. "Ori, you are amazing. From where do you get your patience?"

Ori shot her an amused look. "Try living with Dori a lifetime," he replied. "Don't get me wrong. I love my brother, but he can try the patience of the best at times."

Their choice fell on a small inn with an alehouse called _The Black Otter_ at street level. It didn't have many rooms to offer and if anyone had been hoping for relative privacy they were sorely disappointed. However, it had one advantage. It had an attic that could house the company when it arrived. Ori negotiated with the innkeeper and came out of it with a pleased grin on his face.

"Two regular six bed rooms for us and the attic directly above once Thorin arrives, all at a decent cost," he declared. "The attic is currently used for storage in preparation for the harvest festival, but it's possible to squeeze them in if they come before it's emptied."

Fili, still sore after having had to part with the visible blade weapons he carried, huffed. "He's probably getting underhand payment for housing us in exchange for reporting anything of note. That's why it's so cheap."

Ori nodded. "Most likely. But as we're not planning an insurrection it's nothing we need to concern ourselves with."

"They might not like the idea of a disturbed dragon any better though." Fili hissed his words in the corner of the mouth as he leaned forward to pick up his bags.

Ori seemed unperturbed by the remark. "If they grow alarmed we could always remind them of the gold that's locked up and out of reach as long as Smaug is Erebor's tenant. With the dragon out of the way that gold will flow in this direction, and they don't need to do anything for that to happen, just let us pass through."

"Let's hope no one remembers the prophecy then," Mari murmured. "You know, the one speaking about the total devastation of Lake-Town by that very dragon."

"I expect greed and corruption to induce temporary amnesia in this particular instant," Ori replied glibly.

Mari sighed and nodded. "And you're most likely correct," she agreed.

o.o.o

The same evening Mari and Kili found their way up on the roof to the inn, where they sat gazing at the surroundings and the twinkling stars above. The evening was chilly, as one could expect at this time of year, but the evening was still and there was not a ripple on the lake surface.

Kili's eyes strayed to the mountain faintly visible against the night sky, again and again, and his face was taut with tension.

"It's supposed to be our home," he finally said. "If Smaug hadn't taken it from us. . . "

"You would not have been the Kili and Fili you and the rest of us know today. As horrible as that must have been for those who were there that day, whether they lived or not, it gave us you, the way you are today."

He sighed and looked down on the roof they were sitting on. "I'm so torn."

Mari silently watched him, waiting for him to elaborate.

"We have always known. And if Thorin didn't try for it, we knew we would have to. It was for that purpose we were born." He paused and raised his eyes, gazing at the rooftops. "I never questioned it. But now. . . " He searched for words. "We will do it. We will try to take it back. But if we succeed we will have accomplished everything we were meant to do. Fili obviously is the heir so he eventually will be king. I'm. . . nothing. And your future is uncertain and as my life is linked to yours. . . I feel lost."

Slowly she wrapped her arm around his waist and held him as close as she could. "I can't imagine what it would be like to have such a clearly defined purpose in life as you've had. I don't mind the uncertainty because my life has always been like that. I have moved on so many times, without much of a plan, that it frightens me to think I could have a life where I'd know that until the day I die I'd have a specific role. Such stability just doesn't exist for the likes of me."

"The likes of you," he murmured and turned his head to look at her.

"Let's not beat around the bush here. If ever there were a woman of the people, I am a poster girl for one." She snorted. "What a bloody fairytale. I hope this isn't an original Grimm one. Those rarely end well for people like me." The pain was very obvious in her voice. "I didn't actively aspire to anything, but you saw me anyway. I'm all kinds of wrong – chiefly poor, with no fancy family, and foreign on top of that."

"It's not your lack of name or fortune that is the issue. Nor is it you not being from the Ered Luin or some other place nearby. It's the fact that you're not a Dwarf, and that's the _only_ obstacle. One way or another it will be resolved. At the end of the day I can afford to choose you no matter the consequences just because I'm no one once Erebor is reclaimed."

He caught her before she could pull away, though she made a half-hearted attempt at it.

"Stop thinking and acting like one of them," he said sternly and waved at the town around them.

She raised her chin and met his eyes. "I _am_ one of them. I've been one all my life. It's not that easy to stop."

"In this you must."

They gazed at each other for a long while, but eventually she looked away, pressing her lips into a thin line.

"Galadriel's mirror," he said. "What did you see?"

"Possible outcomes," she replied evasively.

"Yes, so you keep saying."

She shook her head. "It shows the worst possible consequences – as well as the potential, if you achieve success."

"But between those extremes there are many different paths our lives can take, isn't that so?"

Slowly she nodded. "Yes. That's true, I suppose."

"I know with every fibre of my being that Galadriel has the best of intentions, but she does have her own opinion of as to what's preferable and what's not. Don't for a moment think her mirror doesn't reflect this."

He cradled her face with his hands.

"You don't believe in fate," he murmured.

A smile gradually spread over her face. "Thank you for reminding me."

He smiled back at her, looking slightly embarrassed. "I think I needed to be reminded too."

She lifted her hands, wrapped her fingers around his wrists, and stroked the back of his hands with her thumbs. "No power in the verse can stop us."

"Verse?" he asked, confused.

She snorted. "Verse is short for universe. It's a thing from. . . home. Sometimes it feels like there's nothing we can't overcome together."

He nodded and leaned his forehead against hers. "I'll not let you go."

She closed her eyes and hummed contentedly.

o.o.o

Finding Bard took some work. Reluctant to raise any suspicion, Mari didn't ask after him specifically, but rather about things that could set her on the right path to finding him. When she finally did find him, it was a chance moment. She spotted a barge coming down the central canal and there he was, coming in with a cargo.

There was no thought-out plan as to how to catch his attention and speak with him, so she decided to simply stop where she was and watch, hopefully gaining information enough on where to find him at a later time when she did have a plan. What she hadn't counted on was how observant he was. His keen eyes found her and they stayed on her as he went past, carefully guarded and wary. She would not be able to track him unnoticed this time, she realised.

With a sigh she crossed the canal to the side he was mooring on and wandered into the maze of stilts, walkways and small open spaces where the various trades were housed, keeping an eye out, hoping to spot him by chance.

She bumped into Lif, who was mostly just strolling around taking note of life as such, though she had made a few good finds. Mari resigned to having lost Bard for the moment and joined Lif, not too put off by further exploring this town instead.

Turning a corner they found their path blocked by the tall dark-haired visage that was Bard, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at Lif who was leading the way. "Dwarves? In Lake-town? It's been a while," he said, and Mari could feel the hostility from him.

Mari pushed back her hood and stepped in front of Lif. "I'm no Dwarf," she replied calmly. "Mari Smith is my name," she continued, angling her head a fraction to the side as she studied Bard. A small smile formed on her lips.

"Fancy we should run into the descendent of Geiron like this. Any other would simply show us a passing interest and move on, but not. . . Bard."

He stood stock still staring at her. Mari allowed him to process what she had just said and after a while he came to life again.

"What are you?" he asked quietly.

"The same as you. A Man. Basically. Complicated story why I'm this short. Not very entertaining."

Bard's eyes suddenly darted around the place.

"And yes, I expect we're being watched. Of course we are. Any despot with dignity has a secret police and informants. Naturally, the Master has too."

"You're not concerned by that?" Bard's eyes snapped back to her.

"For my sake? Hardly. I'm just a traveller, making my way through the world." She smirked. "For you – a different story entirely. You live here and have children." She threw a particularly vicious glare at one male standing nearby looking like nobody's business, but when she set eyes on him he pulled back into the shadows of an alley.

"I have dealt with a stingy Elven king as well as Gundabad Orcs – not just any Orcs but a particular one with a mission – so I think I can handle Lake-Towners." She motioned vaguely at the people around them, revealing as her cloak opened that she wasn't entirely unarmed.

"If you are interested in finding out why there are Dwarves in Lake-Town you could pop by _The Black Otter_ later this evening."

"What would compel me to risk being seen with foreigners, Dwarves in particular?"

"General curiosity?" she suggested breezily.

Bard snorted.

"Admit it. You _are_ curious."

He eyed her speculatively.

"We need supplies but we don't want to draw too much attention to ourselves. We could use. . . a middleman." She paused. "And there might be a very particular matter you personally could have some interest in too," she added. "Think about it. We'll be there all evening."

With that she inclined her head and strode off with a smirking Lif on her heels, leaving Bard staring after them. As she disappeared from sight he turned and left, heading home.

o.o.o

Bard took his time, studying with sideways glances this odd female sitting to the side. She was holding back, trying to keep herself out of focus and the attention on the Dwarves, but he had a suspicion that she wasn't quite as much a humble servant as she acted right now. She had not acted as such in the market a few hours ago.

Without the cloak and other warmer outer garments it was clear she was a Man. In fact, she reminded him of Sigrid, though she was just a hairsbreadth taller than Tilda. Her whole appearance was puzzling. The hair was braided with jewellery like a Dwarf, and her weapons and vambraces were clearly of Dwarven make. The rest of the attire however looked. . . Not quite Dwarven and not quite Elvish. It had narrower cuts than what he had seen on Dwarves before and the materials were of the light kind he knew the Elves used for their ranger clothes. Instead of the mossy green he'd seen on the Elves, her colour was a dusty blue however, and the embossed pattern on her Elven boots definitely was Dwarven.

His eyes drifted over to the Dwarves and immediately met the steady gaze of a dark-haired young Dwarf. By where he was seated and his exterior, Bard concluded he was a Dwarf of note in this group and despite the blank look on his face, Bard could tell disapproval lurked in the depth of those brown eyes. His eyes wandered to the blond Dwarf sitting next to the dark-haired one, who was guarded, yet not giving him the same sense of disapproval.

Mari cleared her throat and he glanced at her. "Bard, meet Fili and Kili," she paused, "sons of Dis, daughter of Thrain, son of Thror, last king under the mountain."

His jaw firmed and his eyes became sharp and hard like a hawk's. Slowly he turned his head towards the two Dwarves, taking them in again.

"The heirs of Erebor," Mari added like an afterthought. In the corner of his eye he saw her turn towards the two males. "This is Bard, the descendent of Girion, Lord of Dale."

The air grew thick as they stared at each other.

"Thrain's sons, are they dead?" Bard finally asked.

"Thorin lives, and is the current king," the blond replied.

"But you are his sister's sons."

The blond inclined his head. "Thorin never married, and Frerin perished in Azanulbizar. Dis is the only one to have children."

"Who's who?" Bard motioned at them with his hand.

"I'm Fili, first born." The blond gave him a brief nod.

"And I'm Kili," the dark-haired said firmly.

Mari cut in and introduced the other Dwarves present. As he was informed of the black haired female Dwarf's status he nearly dropped his jaw and his eyes were back on Mari again. He wondered what she was doing in this company. This was, after all, the absolute elite among the Dwarves. She pretended to not notice his searching gaze, and continued the introduction.

"The heirs of Durin and an unspecified number of Dwarves from the Iron Hills descend on Lake-Town. . . Surely this is not for recreational purposes?" Bard asked coolly. He noticed that Kili's cheeks rounded slightly in a hint of a smile at the sarcasm and the Dwarf glanced at Mari, whose amusement was more open. She met his glance and they held the gaze a fraction longer than necessary.

"We're expecting company," Fili said. "We've had word that our uncle, Thorin, is making his way through Mirkwood. In fact, he should have reached Caras Yrn by now."

Bard frowned in disbelief. It was no secret the Elven kingdom was closed to the outside world, and the rift between the Elves and the Dwarves was also well-known. How was it possible that the Dwarven king was not only travelling through Mirkwood, but also allowed into the Woodland Realm and its city? Fili and Kili's smirks caught his attention and he leaned slightly forward, narrowing his eyes at them.

"Explain," he demanded.

"We had a little help in negotiating for him and his company to be granted safe passage, kindly offered by the Lady of Light herself," Kili disclosed, and now his amusement was quite palpable, and his eyes was alight with mischief. Now this was a story he would wish to hear, Bard decided. There seemed to be a lot more to this little group than was discernible at first glance.

"And once he reaches Lake-Town?"

"Then Smaug will meet his fate," Fili concluded bluntly.

Bard blanched. "Is Thorin bringing an army?"

"No, he's not. We do not need one to end the dragon."

"This is insanity. You do know the size of that thing? And that it's breathing fire? He has laid waste to the entire mountain and the surroundings, utterly and completely destroyed and poisoned everything."

Fili cleared his throat, looking slightly peeved. "There is a plan. It requires people, but not too many, as well as stealth and strength. There's a risk of casualties as facing a dragon isn't exactly hazard-free, but we have done our utmost to prevent this by planning this carefully and bringing the proper tools."

Kili leaned down and picked up an oblong object, wrapped in cloth, and put it on the table. Slowly he unwrapped it, and the content had Bard making a sharp intake of air. On the table was something resembling a black arrow, newly manufactured.

"There are more of these," Kili said.

"And the wind lances?"

"Of course there are wind lances. How did you expect we would use these otherwise?" Kili sneered.

"Contain him in the mountain – kill him where he is the most vulnerable," Fili cut in with a no-nonsense voice.

"How do you expect to enter without him noticing? I'd not advise you to stroll through the front door."

Kili smirked. "There is another door. Invisible unless the conditions are right. The king has the key."

Bard stared at the bolt in front of him for a long while. He recoiled at the idea at first. Surely the dragon had to be met with a formidable force? Though Dale and Erebor had been taken by surprise, they'd had such a force, and it had failed to stop the dragon. The more he thought about it, the more sense it made to corner the beast and kill it. Hinder it from using its manoeuvrability and lessen the effects of the dragon's fire.

It could work.

"We know about the prophecy," Mari said quietly. "It's our aim that it remains unfulfilled, a mere story."

Gisla, who had been very still, simply observing, straightened and Bard's attention drifted to her.

"We could use someone who's good with the bow," she said.

He arched his eyebrows. "You know my name, my past. And you also know my skill with the bow? How?"

Gisla glanced at Mari briefly. "We have our sources."

His eyes bore into Mari, who gave him an apologetic smile. "Now, this is not for general conversation," she murmured and rose. "You might want to bring that tankard you have yet to drink from." She nodded at the untouched ale by his elbow. "I believe you'll need it once I'm finished. Please."

With a side-ways nod she motioned for him to follow her. As he slowly stood, Kili did too, and as Bard glanced at him, it all fell into place – the disapproving look as he had scrutinised Mari, their shared amusement and glances – they were more than friends.

Sitting down in a bed chamber by a fire, he turned his eyes to Kili. "Married?" he asked.

Kili shook his head. "Not yet."

"Maybe never," Mari added. At Bard's questioning looks she shrugged. "Tradition and politics."

Then she told him a story that was so fantastical it had to be true, and it affected him more than he let on. He stared at the fire as he tried to process it all while silence reigned.

"To carry all that knowledge. . . " he finally said and raised his eyes.

"You adjust. To a degree at least. And now things have developed in new directions to such an extent that my use as an oracle is almost null and void." A lopsided grin formed on her face. "Lady Galadriel has shared a few things with me, but they were mostly personal possibilities."

He nodded. "What makes you think I still have a part to play in all of this?"

"Just the fact that you are an archer should be enough, I would think," she said lightly.

"Dale will need to be rebuilt." Kili finally spoke, aiming his steady gaze at Bard. "Erebor needs its neighbour, but not a neighbour with the government found here in Lake-Town. Someone needs to lead it, someone with what could be considered to be a claim, someone who people could imagine following." He made face and glanced away.

"I know my uncle is quick to put blame on your ancestor for the disaster, but the fact is that no one could have stopped the dragon that fateful day, and we all suffered greatly. It wasn't just the inhabitants of Erebor who lost their homes and were driven into exile, having their entire existence shattered, but the Men of Dale suffered the same fate."

Kili's eyes wandered back to Bard. "Taking it back together would be beneficial. It would prove the ability to lead and mend the bonds that were shattered by the dragon."

"And how come you're the one saying this and not your brother?"

Kili suddenly flashed a brilliant smile at Bard, so unexpectedly that his eyes widened in surprise. Gone was the censuring, scowling Dwarf, replaced with a cheerful and sunny young man, with manners and charm.

"Because when I wish to, I can display quite the winning personality," Kili grinned.

Bard snorted reluctantly, but it quickly turned into a chuckle. "When you're not disapproving of too close an inspection of a certain young lady, of course."

A slight tinge of pink dusted over Kili's cheeks. "I'm constantly wary of any kind of threat. We've seen quite a few of those," he replied evasively. As Bard raised a questioning eyebrow he continued, "What do I know about what you'll do next? Some people could do almost anything for a piece of gold – or less. If people sense we're not to be trifled with, they will think twice before attempting anything."

"Oh, I think people understand none of you are to be trifled with," Bard retorted dryly.

Kili inclined his head. "Never hurts to be careful."

Bard nodded and decided to drop the subject. "You're in luck. The town is preparing for _Hîmfyllo._ People are flocking and goods are pouring in. It's easy to melt into the background and acquire what you need. If the king times his arrival well, you could go almost unnoticed."

"And your participation?" Kili asked.

"I have three children. My eldest is considered grown up but I'd still not wish her to become the caretaker for her siblings. . . " He pressed his lips tightly together. "They are too young to fend for themselves in this world."

"Sigrid, Bain, and Tilda," Mari's voice was soft as she spoke, turned to Kili. "Lost their mother years ago." Bard threw her a helpless and pained look.

"I'm sorry for your loss," Kili said sincerely, and Bard nodded.

"No need for any decisions tonight," Mari quietly interrupted. "It's late and it's no decision anyone should take lightly." She smiled at Bard. "I'd expect someone's up waiting for you at home too."

"Unfortunately, yes," he sighed. "Ever since her mother died she has acted in her stead and now I can't persuade her she's too young any more either."

Mari nodded solemnly. "If you don't mind, I'd wish to meet her." She stood and it prompted the two men to stand as well. They left the chamber, heading down the back stairs to a door leading directly to the stable. Bard hovered at the door with his hand on the handle then turned to Mari.

"I can help you with supplies, for the right compensation of course. The rest I'll need to think about," he said and gave them a nod, opened the door, and left.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long awaited reunion.

_Lake-Town, Hîmfyllo, 30_ _th_ _September 2941 TA_

 _Hîmfyllo,_ the day of the annual autumn and harvest festival, dawned, shrouding Lake-Town in a mist which, thankfully, cleared as the sun rose higher. The streets were full of people, and stalls had been erected wherever it was possible. Fili stood in the window of their room gazing down at the commotion on the walkway-lined canal below with a frown.

"They should be here by now," he said with concern.

"There's no point in fretting by the window," Kili replied from his position atop the bed. "We should go out instead."

"Why? We have the supplies we need." Fili sounded irritable.

"Because you need a diversion before you drive us all mad. And we only have one life too, you know."

Fili winced and turned from the view. "You make me sound like such a bore."

"I know you're not," Kili smiled. "But you take this sincerely. Nothing wrong with that, but considering. . . well, where we're going soon, wasting these days seems like a shame." His smile faded and the two brothers gazed at each other.

"And we don't know if we're coming out of it alive," Fili concluded with a sigh.

Kili nodded with a hint of a smile still lingering on his lips. "Now, I intend to do some living. Care to join me?"

"Do you have anything specific in mind?" Fili hooked his thumbs in his belt and leaned against the window frame. With the golden autumn sun behind him he reminded Kili of Galadriel's fair and glowing outline and he smirked at the thought. It wasn't difficult to imagine him as a future ruler of Erebor in that moment, and Kili's smirk softened. He hoped it would happen and that he would be able to be there when it happened. But none of it was a certainty. They could die, both of them, and he and Mari could be forced to leave. Firmly he pushed it aside. Today was not a day when he was going to give in to gloom. He had decided on this the moment he had opened his eyes that morning, and he would not allow anything to drag him down.

"No, nothing planned." Kili gingerly got on his feet. "Just do what people usually do during festive days such as this."

"Brawling?" Fili arched his eyebrows and grinned widely.

Kili looked a bit irked. "I was hoping to avoid that particular part. Shouldn't be too difficult, should it?"

Fili pushed away from the window frame and crossed the floor to the door. "We'll see. Where are the others?"

"They didn't specify where they were going but I'll find them." Kili followed his brother through the door.

Fili stopped abruptly and turned to look at Kili in surprise. "You're letting Mari out of sight without knowing where she's gone?"

"I. . . " Kili, who almost walked into his brother as he halted, closed his mouth and dropped his eyes to the floor. "You know she's bothered by our inclination to be overly protective. I don't need her to give an account of everything she's planning to do or has done either."

Fili took a closer look at Kili. "Perhaps this is semantics, but do you mean you don't actually need her to tell you, or are you trying to be philosophical?"

Without looking up Kili shrugged. Fili studied Kili quietly, deliberately allowing the silent scrutiny to drag on.

"I don't ask her to tell me," Kili replied evasively.

With his gaze still piercing his brother, Fili angled his head slightly. "You know, I have wondered about that. When Mari went missing after Dain's wedding you didn't throw a fit. You just went and found her. No fretting. I remember well what you were like in Tharbad and Edoras and you'd certainly have good reason to continue being protective. I expect you to be. It's our way." Fili crossed his arms, studying Kili closely.

"I know her habits." Kili would still not look at Fili and his face was a closed-off mask.

"Yes, I admit that you do, and I also suspected she had stolen away somewhere for some quiet contemplation. I would like to think that I know her quite well too by now, but I doubt I would have found her before she had come back of her own accord. You? When we realised she was missing you didn't even show a hint of concern."

Kili was quiet.

"That's just one of many things. Mari may not have given it much thought, but you almost ceased to talk the way you used to on our way from the Iron Hills. Despite this you knew when she grew tired, was hungry, and needed to warm herself. On one occasion you turned your horse around and rode down the line to where she was because there was an issue that had cropped up. How did you know without anyone calling our attention to it?"

"I just know. Sometimes. I feel it." Kili shifted his weight from one foot to the other and made a half-hearted _Iglismek_ sign for knowledge, the intuitive kind.

"And now you 'feel' where Mari is?" Kili nodded and Fili let his hands drop to his sides while taking a steadying breath. "I worry about you. From my perspective it seems like you've been put under some spell or something. That kind of 'feeling' is very un-Dwarven. We don't sense things or people. It makes me wonder about those episodes you had in Lorien and Mirkwood. What was that, really?"

"No one has done anything," Kili replied sharply and snapped his head up to glare at Fili.

"But these. . . You said it yourself. They were stronger, they changed in character." Fili took a step towards Kili, who shied away.

"I've had them all my life. You know that. And I feel absolutely fine now and have ever since we crossed the Desolation when we journeyed to the Iron Hills."

"Kili, I only worry. It could harm you." Fili allowed his alarm to bleed into his demeanour.

"I'm fine," Kili growled between clenched teeth.

"But for how long? What if this comes back? And what if someone is trying to use you somehow? I don't trust wizards or Elves who can talk in your head and see the future."

"There is nothing I can do if any of that is true!" Kili shouted. "What's the use of going on like this? I'm not doing anything. To anyone. I don't think anyone else is either. I imagine I'd know deep down if something truly were wrong."

Fili's eyes widened and he leapt forward, catching Kili by his shoulders. "I'm not suspicious of you! I simply fear that you'll be hurt by it!"

Kili stared at his brother who stared back with unchecked concern. "I felt that," Fili said slowly and swallowed. "Very briefly. But I felt fear and frustration, and it wasn't mine."

Momentarily Kili struggled to back away, trying to free himself from Fili's grip, but Fili would not let go. "Please. Tell me," Fili begged.

"There is nothing to tell. I feel absolutely fine, just. . . " Kili's eyes darted away. "As if the world has become clearer."

Fili swallowed and breathed deliberately slow. "Clearer?"

"I can't explain it better."

"Why the fear?" Fili pressed.

"You make me afraid."

Fili hung his head. "I'm sorry. It's not my intention to frighten you." He looked up again. "But this is not common and the possible reasons why terrify me."

Kili threw out his hands helplessly. "It doesn't seem strange and wrong to me. I feel well."

Slowly Fili let him go and nodded.

"Please don't tell Mari," Kili said quietly. "She worries."

"We all do, Kee." Fili shook his head. "I wonder-" He went quiet and turned his head away.

"What?"

Fili stiffened. "Nothing." Turning back he stared at Kili for long moments, taking in every detail of him. "We should find the others." He swirled around and strode off leaving Kili looking confused.

…

The group slowly wove their way through the throng, doing their best to look at the wares on offer without being shoved into the canal by inattentive Men. Fili was leading the way, and though he was smiling and making comments, none of the others were fooled. He was concerned and he couldn't hide it.

For quite some time they simply strolled around. Every now and then they'd stop because something caught their attention, which was why the others were slow to react when Kili stopped short, staring through the stilted open space under a house. Mari stopped too and turned to look at him in askance, then followed his line of sight.

"Are you coming?" Fili called at them, when he noticed that they no longer were right on his and Gisla's heels.

"Fili," Ori quietly said, he too gazing in the same direction as Kili and Mari. Fili's eyes searched for the reason they had all stopped and when he found it, he nearly lost his ability to breathe.

"Thorin," he whispered.

On the other side of the house on a crowded walkway he stood, Thorin, staring back at them. Next to him Dwalin and Gloin had stopped and the other members of the company were gradually coming to a halt behind them.

The first one to react was Mari, whose face lit up with a slow growing smile. "They're here. They're really here!" she exclaimed and began pulling Kili along with her, pushing through a gap among the stalls.

Thorin set off towards them, with the others quickly following as word spread of whom they had found. Dori came barrelling through, not minding anything, hardly the house stilts either, when he caught sight of Ori. He all but crashed into his younger brother, wrapping his arms around Ori in a bone-crushing hug.

"You miserable little imp! We have hardly heard a word from you since you left!" he cried. "I'm so glad you're in one piece!"

Ori bore the neigh-on assault with great calm and even smiled slightly, gently patting Dori on the back. When Nori drew up behind, Ori reached out and pulled her in too.

"I have missed you," Ori whispered.

"And we you," Nori replied. Dori seemed to have lost his ability to speak for a moment and only nodded.

Thorin reached out and caught Kili first with one arm and then Fili with the other, embracing them tightly, pressing his eyes shut while he murmured words in Khuzdul. Mari and Gisla stopped and looked at the scene with wide smiles until Dwalin picked up Mari and Gloin pulled Gisla into his arms.

"You're looking spry," Mari commented and boxed Dwalin lightly in solar plexus when he set her down on the ground. "I expected a scruffier exterior on you, considering the ordeal you've been through since leaving Rivendell."

"Oh we were. Quite scruffy," Dwalin replied. "But tha Elves have some nice baths."

Mari pursed her lips in an attempt to hold back a grin.

"Ah lass, ye were right about accepting help from tha Elves." Dwalin sounded remorseful and nodded grudgingly.

"I hope you didn't try poor Tauriel's patience too hard." She arched her eyebrows questioningly.

Dwalin squinted with his eyes and grunted and she shook her head. "Well, you made it out alive so I it couldn't be that bad."

"Mari," Thorin interrupted. He had let go of his nephews, as well as Gisla and Ori, whom he had greeted after, and now he was facing her.

She turned towards him, studying him closely, looking for worrying signs of the so called madness. He inclined his head and smiled, and there was the Thorin she knew, somewhat distant but not cold. With a small knowing smile of her own she mirrored him, which amused him and broadened his in return.

"I'm pleased to see you are well." He stepped close enough to reach her, put his hand behind her neck and leaned his forehead against hers. When he released her she stared at him with wide eyes, stunned by this surprising act of closeness. Clearing her throat she dropped her eyes.

"I think I speak for all of us when I say we're relieved you're here and in good health."

He patted her on her shoulder and gave her an odd smile, both grave and amused at the same time. "We had help along the way, for which I'm grateful. That's not to say that the journey was without its share of problems, but we are here now. Come, allow me to introduce you."

Gently he ushered her towards the crowd of Dwarves, where she spotted Bilbo hovering in the background. She smiled widely at him.

"Bilbo! It's so good to see you!" she exclaimed and hurried over to him and caught one of his hands, not daring to hug him in case he should find it too intrusive or die of fright. They didn't know each other that well either, so it could seem strange to him for her to suddenly show such affection.

Bilbo's eyes widened as he recognised her. "Miss Mari! This is a pleasant surprise." His smile was genuine and he seemed like a completely different person to the one she had met in the Shire, just as she had expected him to be, and he didn't seem to be bothered by her pressing his hand.

She laughed happily. "It is! It really is. You seem to be doing fairly well, despite the ordeal you've been through."

He squeezed her hand back and gave her a knowing smile. "It has been a challenge at times, but on the whole I can't complain too much. We've seen some interesting things along the way."

"I hear the true spirit of an adventurer!"

At that Bilbo coloured slightly and he looked down at his feet. "Well, maybe not quite."

"Oh he has been doing fine!" a Dwarf cut in and when she turned her head she saw Bofur manoeuvring closer, with his hat firmly in place, just as it should be.

"Bofur," she said with a smile. "How nice to meet you."

Bofur made a pause and then bowed. "At your service. Yes, of course you'd know."

She nodded and her eyes darted around the gathered company, and she let go of Bilbo's hand. "I do. Each and every one. Doesn't mean I don't want the introduction. It's one thing knowing and another actually meeting."

Bofur straightened and weighed on his heels for a moment. "Well then!" he grinned and turned to his brother and began the introductions with him.

As a group they were a cautious lot even if she earned herself the stray smile, but it was still a better reception than she had received in the Iron Hills, and she hadn't expected to be welcomed with open arms. This group had travelled together for months, facing all sorts of dangers and obstacles and she had not been part of any of that. She was just a new addition – a non-Dwarf one at that. Her familiarity with Thorin, Dwalin and Dori was an ice breaker, and they would tolerate her because of it, but nothing more. For now, at least.

They gathered all their things – "we're travelling light!" Bofur had exclaimed as he hefted his rather large and clearly heavy bag – and off they all went, led onwards by Fili and Kili, both brothers cheerfully talking with in particular Balin and Gloin. Gisla and Ori joined in with Dori, Nori and the Broadbeam family and Mari found herself at the very back of the troop, along with Bilbo. Thorin kept a low profile and to her surprise he didn't take the lead but brought up the rear along with the only non-Dwarves, herself and Bilbo. He was quiet and watchful, though he cut in with a remark here and there in the conversation, and it didn't escape Mari that he and Bilbo had become quite close. Again, as expected, she thought and smiled. Thorin caught her watching them and he shook his head at her.

"You knew, all long, didn't you? I recall you once saying something about Bilbo surprising us," Thorin said quietly as Bilbo's attention was elsewhere for a short while.

She shrugged lightly and tried to look enigmatic, bringing him to a chuckle.

"Sometimes I'm beginning to feel as if there's a conspiracy, meant to tear down my long-held prejudice and beliefs. Like someone sent you, Bilbo, and Tauriel my way, hoping to change my views of the world."

"Not that I know of. But are you changing?"

He shot her a curiously strange glance. "Perhaps," he replied, but offered nothing more and Mari didn't pressure him. She could only hope they were having an influence, and a positive one at that. Her eyes sought Kili where they lingered, not realising that Thorin saw the concern she didn't think to hide, etched on her face, and followed her line of sight.

o.o.o

"So laddie, I see you have decided to honour our ways some more," Balin said and grinned at Kili.

Kili shrugged. "I haven't tried this before. Thought I should give it a try."

Balin nodded. "True. How are you finding it then?"

"Time consuming." Kili took a mouthful from his tankard.

"Aye. Braids is something I'd rather forego," Balin admitted.

"Messy. I haven't adapted to this." Demonstratively Kili wiped his short beard. "This may go again eventually."

"You could shave it now if you wished to. It's your choice."

"You know it isn't," Kili sighed.

"So you're doing this for political reasons?"

"And to hide my shortcomings. I may have stopped growing lengthwise, but. . . well, there are many oddities about me. Not least physically."

"You've hardly come of age yet. Ample time to fill out here and there then." Balin didn't really believe it, and by the look of things, neither did Kili, who shot him a displeased look. Kili rose and held out his empty tankard.

"I'm having another. You want one too?" he asked. Balin nodded and handed him his own, and Kili headed off towards the kegs of ale with the tankards.

Balin followed him with his eyes, closely scrutinising this young relative. For once it seemed like he hadn't grown taller since last time Balin has seen him. He should have stopped long before he was an adult. Who ever heard of adult Dwarves growing? But Kili had, slowly adding to his height even as he came of age. Not that he was excessively tall; it was rather the time it took him to grow and develop that was all wrong. Balin wasn't certain Kili had stopped growing altogether yet either.

Well, the lad had a beard these days at least. And braids. He was looking quite a bit like his mother – actually more than he should, at least in Balin's opinion. It was odd how her children had taken after each parent, Fili his father and Kili his mother. It was just the eye colour that was wrong – wherever that came from. Though he had racked his brain he couldn't remember anyone else in the family having brown eyes, but he couldn't say whether some long dead ancestor possibly could have had brown eyes.

What really caused unease in Balin was the way Kili conducted himself. For the most part he was like any other Dwarf but from time to time there were moments when he'd straighten, angle his head in a particular way or simply react too quickly and with an agility which reminded Balin of. . . cats. Damnable animals. He'd always been lithe for one of their kin, but somehow it had been paired with a certain kind of unusual dexterity, which really was plain wrong.

Balin watched Kili put down the tankards and laughingly throw out his hands when chatting with a youngster by the barrel. The youngster playfully aimed a strike at Kili, who not only avoided being hit, but did it with acrobatic poise. Balin hesitated to use those words for it, even if they were only in his own mind. Showing off, Kili was, Balin thought to himself as Kili made another evasive manoeuvre.

"Leaping around like an Elf," Balin huffed out loud.

"What was that?" Oin asked shoving his ear trumpet in Balin's direction.

Balin gave the apothecary an uneasy smile. "Just commenting on Master Kili's alacrity."

"Something's not quite right about him," Oin declared and shrugged. "But then again, who are we to know about his father?"

Balin hissed but Oin waved at him. "Everyone knows Vestri was not Dis' One. There's not an ounce of Vestri in that lad, mark my words."

No, everyone did not know Dis had married Vestri due to circumstance, but naturally the close family did, and Oin was after all even more closely related to Thorin than Balin was. It had never occurred to Balin though that Dis could have found a One while married to Vestri and acted on it. If that was true, why had she not settled with him once Vestri was dead?

Kili was returning with the ale but his focus was on another table, eyes alight with a lively twinkle. The small smile turned into a wide grin, and Balin could tell some wordless communication was going on between him and someone at that other table.

The white-haired adviser leaned forward and caught sight of the young woman he had been introduced to earlier, Mari, Kili's One. She was smirking back at Kili, and it wasn't just the lights from the lamps all around them putting a gleam in her surprisingly dark eyes.

Balin sighed. Life was never easy. He could practically feel a scandal nipping at his heels that he would have to deal with eventually. There was only one thing he could ask for – time – so he could prepare and stop it from turning into a full-blown disaster for the family.

. . .

Thorin watched Mari where she sat, deep in conversation with a group of young people native to Lake-Town. She seemed quite unaware of the scrutiny she was under, all engrossed in the discussion, but Thorin wasn't fooled.

Kili sat at a table next to Thorin's in the open-air eating place erected for the festivities, on the surface drinking ale and talking to some of the members of the company along with Fili, Ori, and Gisla, but he had not paid any sincere attention to the topics discussed over the past hour, after he moved away from Balin and out of Thorin's hearing range.

Kili's eyes constantly strayed, ending up on Mari. After watching her for a while with half-lidded eyes he pulled his gaze away, only to repeat it a few minutes later.

"Nothing new there," Dwalin said and dropped down next to Thorin, his amused gaze on Kili.

Thorin glanced at his oldest friend and then nodded. "We are stone. Steady and firm. Not yielding lightly."

"Aye. _We_ are. She's not. She could easily have left." Dwalin glanced at Mari who laughingly clonked her flagon with the young people she sat with.

After drinking and thumping the metal mug on the table, her eyes darted across the large area and met Kili's gaze. It was very brief and to an outsider it didn't look like much, but to the older Dwarves it was more than enough.

"Not as unaware of his attention as she seems on the surface." Dwalin's amusement was tangible.

"It's like they are having some sort of quiet communication. Quite un-Dwarven."

"Oh, I don't know about that." Dwalin peered at Thorin. "You wouldn't know what it's like since you've never had what they have." He nodded in Mari's general direction.

Thorin grunted and shrugged. He had watched them all day after the company had settled into their quarters. They hadn't been within touching distance during the afternoon and evening, sometimes not even at the same location, but it didn't seem to matter. There was a vague promise of things to come in the air between them somehow, and it annoyed him. He didn't want to see it. The reason why he didn't want to see proof of the obvious attachment made him even more annoyed, because in his mind he, Thorin Oakenshield, was all but craft-wed to his duty as king and the obligation to take back their lost mountain – his home. He should not feel envy when he watched Kili and Mari. But he did.

Dwalin kept eyeing Thorin. "Quite frankly, I'm surprised they haven't revolted and married along the way. Kili was never the patient kind."

"Kili knows the consequences, should he choose to take matters into his own hands. If they had stayed instead of running off the way they did, maybe something could have been done for them."

"You believe that?"

"I could do absolutely nothing after they left."

"I suppose they've had nothing forcing the issue so far," Dwalin mused.

"Let's hope there will be nothing rearing its head either. It's a delicate situation as it is."

"It helps that Mari doesn't care for formality. I suppose that's the main reason for their status remaining the same," Dwalin continued. "Imagine if she had been one of ours! In that sense she's quite ideal. She'll accept a lot of things our own kind would never even contemplate."

"Had she been a Dwarf there would hardly have been much to oppose to."

"A Stiffbeard?"

Thorin's brow darkened significantly.

"I doubt you would have rejoiced if it had been a Broadbeam or an Ironfist either," Dwalin said tartly. "It's easy now to sit here and say 'if she had been a Dwarf' when we're faced with _her_ , but we both know it was never that simple."

Mari rose from her spot by the long table, demonstratively taking leave, embracing those she had been sitting with, laughing, and generally making a fuss about leaving. Kili completely lost interest in the conversation going on around him. He finished off the ale sitting by his elbow, his eyes never leaving her.

After a final wave she started to make her way through the crowded space towards an alley, slightly unsteady on her feet. It was Kili's cue and without a word he slipped away from his seat too, intent on intercepting her. Quietly they met up as if it was by chance, and then wandered into the shadows of a narrow walkway.

"I must admit I preferred not having to watch them all these months," Thorin sighed.

Dwalin nodded. "Out of sight – out of mind."

Thorin demonstratively turned from the alley where his nephew and Mari had disappeared. "Out of sight. Finally."

Dwalin snorted and shook his head, giving his old friend a long look. "But not out of mind this time."

_. . ._

Giggling like children Kili and Mari hurried through the narrow walkways running along the stilted houses next to the canals, sometimes pausing in a nook for a quick kiss. There were still quite a lot of people moving about but few ventured through the neighbourhood they now crossed into. Mari suddenly stopped, yanking Kili to a halt. She whipped her head around looking up and down the walkway where they stood. It was empty.

"What?" Kili breathed, raising his brow.

Mari turned back and a grin spread over her face as she advanced on him. "Quiet and empty," she whispered.

Kili's eyes quickly scanned the surroundings. "Surely that's just temporary." As he faced her again she kissed him, untangling her hand from his and pushing it into his hair, letting her fingertips follow his scalp.

"Most persuasive," he murmured into her mouth.

"That's the idea," she replied. The playfulness faded and her eyes were like dark pools which revealed unabashed desire. He paused for a few seconds and his fingers dug into her hips, pressing her closer. Their lips met again, tongues tangled and from one moment to the next they had gone from giggling mischief to giving in to the pent up craving that had been building all day.

A door or a window opened and an unseen voice echoed down the narrow canal, temporarily stilling them both.

"This is a bit too public for my taste," Kili breathed and started to pull away only to find that she had backed him up against a wall. He smirked at her and she smiled back. If he wished to he could be striding down the walkway the next second with her in a grip she would not be able to get out of, and they both knew it. But he was always open to relinquishing control so he stayed there, his back pressed against the wall, waiting.

"I believe there's a door here." Next to him a low door opened as she pushed on it. "Storage and mooring!" she said triumphantly.

She quickly slipped through the door and pulled him along. Being somewhat unsteady, he bumped into the door frame with his shoulder and then stumbled before he caught her by her waist, steadying himself. She snickered and wiggled out of his grip.

Half the space under the house consisted of a landing open to the canal in front of them, the view framed by three arches. Tied to the landing was a skiff, sheltered by the rest of the house, which was resting on stilts at the far corners.

The landing they stood on was fairly wide though quite cluttered. She silently closed the door while he gazed up at the ceiling.

"You think they're home?" he whispered.

"You don't know where we are?" she asked. He shook his head. "This is Bard's house!" she grinned. "I know no one's home."

Kili snorted and shook his head. "It's equally as bad as on the other side of that door."

The canal on this side of the house was a wider one and not lined with walkways. All the surrounding houses had moorings the way Bard's house had and in contrast to the narrow canals lined with walkways, there was a bit of boat traffic here. Most were skiffs similar to the one they stood next to, but one or two were larger vessels. All had lanterns lit and the light from them ran like streaks of gold on the black lake surface.

"I think there's a solution to this particular problem." She reached out and yanked at a rope, releasing a large sheet of waxed canvas, covering much of the arches open to the canal. "Would that do?" she asked and turned back towards him.

Light was still finding its way into the partly covered storage but only just enough for Mari to not be rendered completely blind. Kili on the other hand had no such problems.

"What if they come home?" He reached out and pulled her lazily flush to him and buried his nose in her hair and breathed hot air into her ear. She shivered slightly and sighed which quirked the corners of his mouth.

"Then they come home," she breathed and tilted her head slightly. "If we don't want to be detected I suppose we have to be quiet." With a smirk she buried her hands in his thick hair by the nape of his neck, eliciting a similar reaction from him as he had from her.

"This is neither warm nor comfortable." He straightened enough to be able to meet her eyes.

"I think we will be able to stay warm enough and it's not that bad. Should inspire some creativity."

Though the want was obvious in them both, neither were rushed. There was a quiet sort of anticipation in the moment and they allowed it to stretch before they leaned in for a kiss which they kept on the gentle side. As her fingers continued to weave their way through his hair, he slipped his hands from her waist down over the folds of the skirt at the back, digging his fingers into the layers.

"Is there a particular reason for this?" he asked and tugged at the fabric.

"Mmm." She leaned her head back when he turned his attention to her jawline. "Most women wear skirts, you know." Her fingertips traced the skin on his neck down to the collar, finding the buttons to the newly acquired formfitting jerkin he was wearing.

"Uhum. Is that so," he breathed in her ear. "You didn't wear skirts often even in the Shire, if you could help it. You always seemed more comfortable wearing trousers."

"They have their uses but so do skirts."

Laughing quietly he put some inches between them and looked down at the front of her garments and she speedily exploited the opportunity it presented. Her nimble fingers quickly worked on the buttons on the jerkin, and then she went on to do the same with the buttons on the shirt.

A long time ago Kili had stopped wearing the heavy undergarments Dwarves commonly wore, as had Fili, and as the shirt parted it revealed only his bare chest.

"What's all this?" He pulled at the layers of wrap tunics.

"Summer is definitely over and we're far north. I expected it to be cold. I was right, wasn't I?" She flicked the last button open and went on to find the tucked-in end of the shawl wrapped around her waist, which kept the tunics in place.

"See?" The shawl fell to the floor and the tunics unwrapped on their own, revealing a thin white blouse, lavishly embroidered in red, blue and yellow around the slot neckline.

"Pretty," he said neutrally and traced the skin by her throat down until bottom of the slit, hooking his finger in it, tugging slightly. The neckline was quite modest, allowing the blouse to be pulled over the head, but not much more.

She smirked at him, pushing his shirt further apart and making contact with his warm skin with her hands. Following the waistband with her fingers she coaxed him closer once she made it to his back.

"I suggest less talk," she whispered and pressed her lips to his.

There was more urgency between them now as the anticipation began to catch fire, but they continued to take their time, savouring the moment, sometimes breaking the kiss just to look at each other while their hands wandered, watching the reactions to the pleasure they could induce.

"It may offer privacy, but that's really all it does too," he murmured and nipped her lips gently.

"Quit complaining. It's not like we have many options." She inched her hand between them and pulled the ribbons at the front of his trousers and smirked at him.

"There's always the privy."

"You're such a romantic."

He snorted. "More than you!" he protested and then drew a rugged breath as she slowly and teasingly pushed her hand down inside the trousers and smallclothes.

"Depends on the defini-" Her words were cut off when he kissed her with considerably more firmness than before. His efforts to hitch up the skirt was unsuccessful though and he kept getting lost in the wide and long garments in several layers.

After a short while he partly abandoned the effort, fisting his hands in the fabric as she continued her gentle attention. Breaking the kiss Kili squinted at the surroundings and cursed in Khuzdul, which made her snort.

"All this clutter!" he hissed.

She tried to contain the laughter bubbling up, but she was not entirely successful. Growling in response, he grabbed her to lift her off the floor and with a squeak she pulled her hand free and gripped him tightly around his shoulders, breaking into a giggle. He crossed the floor to the door and pushed her back against it while he worked on freeing himself from the constraints of the trousers and underwear.

In his haste he fumbled and got snagged in her skirt and nearly lost his balance, and had to brace himself against the door frame. Letting his shoulders go she cradled his face with her hands, commanding his attention. He stilled and gazed back at her, meeting her eyes.

"Floor. Now," she said with a smile and started pulling him down while she snatched up the shawl on the floor nearby, spreading it over the floor planks. Slightly confused he allowed her to direct him until he sat propped up against the door instead. With a lopsided grin he watched her gather her skirts and pushing them out of the way with practised ease, revealing she wasn't wearing anything underneath the layers but long hoses tied with ribbons just above the knee. Unceremoniously, though without hurrying she straddled him, and carefully guiding him she sank down, joining them together.

He gripped her hips still hidden under layers of fabric first, then his hands found their way under the bunched up skirt layers, slowly working their way up her thighs, pushing the skirt out of the way. His eyes followed the progress until he had uncovered them both, and he could see them fitted together.

She steadied herself by putting her hands on the boards that made up the door while looking at him with a small smile playing on her lips. Leaning the back of his head against the door their eyes met and she very slowly moved. Watching him keenly, she varied her movement slightly to find the point when he went nearly cross-eyed and his fingers dug into her flesh. Finding it was a moment of particular pleasure for both and she closed her eyes and gasped, tipping her head slightly backwards.

Their breaths grew more laboured, but were muffled when he pulled her closer and their mouths met in fervent kisses.

Knowing each other well had its advantages and they both used this familiarity to their joint benefit. Hands, lips and tongues found the particularly sensitive spots they could reach despite the barrier the clothes formed.

Breaking a kiss she arched her back, momentarily losing control over her vocal chords, resulting in a moan slipping over her lips as she climaxed. He fared slightly better, but only just, before he slumped back against the door, wrapping his arms around her, holding her as close as he could.

Relaxing against him, she leaned her forehead against the door and allowed her hands to slip down the wood and come to rest on his shoulders. They stayed in that position for several minutes, regaining their calm breath while holding each other tightly. Mari was the first to move, raising her head and inching back slightly. Kili loosened his hold just enough for them to come face to face again.

"You may not have worn skirts much but somehow you've learned how to master them," he murmured.

"Can't say the same for you," she smirked. "They almost bested you."

He snorted. "Well, I've not had much practice since you wear them so rarely." He pressed a soft kiss on her lips. "I sense a cunning plan behind all of this. In fact, I'm certain of it."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she replied breezily.

"No? You knew this space existed and that the house would be empty just now. I saw you sitting with Sigrid, Tilda, and Bain this evening, love."

Shrugging lightly she said, "To be fair, I knew about this storage space before we even came to Lake-Town."

"Hmmm. And nothing under this skirt."

"Just honouring the local custom. Unlike the Hobbits, women around here apparently don't wear much in the way of underwear. Ever. Handy that." She grinned and they leaned their foreheads together.

"I think I may have been drinking a bit more than I thought," he sighed and swallowed.

"Mmm, me too. But we can allow some indulgence, don't you think? Everyone is here as they should and in good time – and we can be hungover tomorrow. We don't need to get up early."

"Not too badly hungover, I hope." There was a slight whine to his voice.

"I hate to ruin the moment, but I really need to stretch my legs," she breathed and drew back. Slowly she rose up, wincing at the pain in her knees. He steadied her by holding her waist, keeping her from toppling over as she stiffly clambered over to his side. "It'll be a dead heat between my head and my knees tomorrow; which will hurt the most." Her head fell back against the door frame.

"Nothing to clean up with?" he asked, looking down at himself and then at her.

She shook her head. "My planning fell a bit short there, I'm afraid. Could be the ale intake I've been indulging in all day. Made me forget about such an essential detail." She snickered and started fumbling with the wrap tunics, pulling them around herself. Reaching for the shawl she tugged it free and tied it around her waist. Beside her Kili began making himself more presentable too.

"What did you and Fili argue about this morning?" she asked as she leaned back against the door again.

Startled he looked up from the buttons he was working on. "How did you know?"

She turned her head towards him and smiled. "I felt it. Very brief, but unmistakeable. And I guessed it was Fili because it's only him or me you react that strongly to."

He stared at her with wide eyes and a blank face. "Um, he worries. It grates on my nerves sometimes."

"We only care," she whispered and leaned her head against his shoulder.

"You feel when I'm angry with Fili?" he asked tentatively.

"Mmm. Just as I felt your reaction just now when we made love. I always do these days. It definitely adds to the experience."

Silently he stared at her, his hands having completely stopped closing the buttoned front of his jerkin. With a frown she raised her head and looked at him again.

"What? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Do you sense other things too?"

"From you? Not unless it's. . . intense, I suppose I'd call it." She smiled. "It's partly because you and Fili had a row that I decided to surprise you a bit. But I miss this, just being you and me, together. I know you do too."

Reluctantly he returned the smile. "I told Fee we shouldn't forget to live even if we have some important planning to do."

"Good advice." She sighed. "I don't want to go back to that crowded and noisy inn but if we stay here I'm going to freeze my arse off."

"Maybe the others haven't come back yet?"

"Oh, I'm not talking about Gisla, Fili, and Ori. They're probably still out. By the look of some in the company the revelry could go on for some time. I'm surprised they let you go so easily."

"I didn't announce my intentions," he grinned and jumped on his feet, pulling her along with her. She followed a bit stiffly, brushing off dust from her skirt as best she could. "You clearly need to be warmed up and I know just the thing."

She snickered as she pulled at her clothes, straightening them out.

Brushing stray hairs out of her face, he caught her attention. "I sense you. All the time," he admitted hesitatingly when she looked at him. "It's not. . . normal. I know it isn't."

She gave him a warm smile. "Who gets to decide what's normal anyway? As long as I don't hurt you by being me, is that a problem?"

He shook his head. "No, you don't hurt me. Not at all."

"Then all is well." She lifted her hand and caressed his cheek briefly. "I have suspected for some time that you pick up on my emotions and moods. You felt what I was thinking this evening, didn't you?"

He gaped. "That was deliberate? I could hardly concentrate on anything else."

She grinned mischievously at him, causing him to snort. "Ack. Now I have outed my secret. Nothing will ever be the same," she sighed.

"But it doesn't concern you?" he asked incredulously.

"This is a place where so many things can be explained with magic and as long as you're doing well, I don't worry about something like that." She shrugged. "I pick up on a lot of things that are magical. Not like the Elves obviously who can do all sorts of magical fu, but I feel surprisingly much. Didn't expect that."

"But I'm a _Dwarf_."

"A very special Dwarf. My Dwarf." She caught him by his shoulders and pressed a kiss on his lips.

He half-sighed and half-snorted. "It's not just Fili who is worried. I am too."

Mari's smile fell away. "I know you are. I can tell without any fancy magic. But there's so much we don't know and understand and until such a time when you're unable to live a regular life because of it, I have decided it's a non-issue."

"When did you change your mind?" he asked. "I remember you were very worried in Mirkwood."

She hesitated for a beat. "I pressed Tauriel a bit."

He nodded. "I suspected you did."

"Me not worrying all the time is a bit of a give-away, isn't it?"

Tentatively he nodded.

"It's not going to kill you, that much I know. The reason why I haven't said anything is because I can't answer any questions. But you're fine." The corners of her mouth curved upwards and she tilted her head. "Now, I recall someone making a promise about warming me up, if possible."

Kili reached for the door and cracked it open, just enough to peek outside. The walkways were quiet and without anyone moving in the vicinity. He pushed it open, picked up her hand and together they slipped back out, closed the door behind them, and stealthily began making their way to the inn where they were staying.

…

Though the door flew open with a bang, the two nestled closely together in one of the narrow beds didn't react. Chatting and laughing Gisla, Fili, and Ori poured through the door but stopped and fell silent just inside when they noticed Kili and Mari fast asleep. Clothes were strewn around the bed and when Gisla quietly slipped further inside taking a peek at the floor she concluded that all the clothes had come off.

She looked back at Fili and Ori. Ori was removing his boots and then silently tiptoed to the basin to ready himself for bed. Fili smiled, and then turned his gaze to her.

"I don't know if they are clever or if they're just brazen," he said quietly.

Gisla went back to the door and toed off her boots too. "Today? Probably the latter," she smiled.

Without making undue noise they quickly went to bed and as Ori put out the light and climbed into bed, Gisla closed her eyes, expecting to fall asleep in an instant, tired as she was and with a mind muddled by alcohol. She was slowly slipping into sleep when a little thought wormed itself into her consciousness, one which wouldn't go away.

She started counting with a frown, then counted again just to be certain. Raising her head from her pillow she opened her eyes and studied Kili and Mari's sleeping forms for a moment. With a sigh she settled back in bed.

Mari had taken a risk this evening. Gisla was sure Mari was aware of it. It wasn't the first time she had taken this risk, even if she did try to stick to safe periods on top of the other precautions they both took. When it happened it happened when they had been travelling and privacy was hard to find. Since they left the Iron Hills they had not just had to mind each other but also a number of Ironfist companions, making it impossible to find seclusion on the road. Arriving in Lake-Town had not helped much since they had decided to share a room. She herself wouldn't waste the moments of private time she and Fili could find. Little wonder Mari and Kili didn't either.

What made Gisla's stomach clench was the repercussions such a risk could have for her friend. Mari had made it into a mantra, that she wasn't like anyone here in Middle Earth, but no one could be certain. Knowing what they knew now after the visit in Rohan, Gisla was prepared to expect anything.

She sighed and burrowed her head deeper into the pillow. Right now it might not matter at all what they did though. Staying here in Lake-Town, facing the mountain every day, was a reminder that everything could end in a few weeks' time. Who cared about a bit of indulgence and risk taking in such a situation? But if they survived and if Mari's timing was right – or wrong depending on how you looked at it. . . Gisla pushed it from herself. It wasn't anything anyone could do much about at present and it wouldn't do her any good to fret about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. :)


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old foes and farewells.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, hello everyone. Not dead. ;)

_Edoras/The Wold, north Rohan, May/June 2941 TA_

Vigg watched Celarion as he strolled slowly through the camp. The Elf most likely believed he was difficult to spot and that no one actually paid any attention, but in that he was wrong. Vigg had been watching ever since he joined the travellers in Edoras as they set out north.

They arrived with the first north-bound caravan heading towards Ered Luin for the season – an Elf, a Dwarf and one of those Men from Minas Tirith. Vigg preferred to call such Men Gondorians to separate them from the Dunedain rangers. Vigg was in Edoras in search of work, staying with his brother Eoric, and the odd company caught his attention due to one of the local gentry drunkards, who ended up in a brawl with the Elf and the Gondorian.

“Oh for the love of...” Eoric hissed as they sat playing a game of dice at the nearest alehouse, also doubling as an inn, when some voices took on a particular note of annoyance behind Vigg's back. Vigg threw a cursory glance over his shoulder and spotted one of the locals, obviously not sober, involved in a heated exchange with an Elf. Or rather, it was the local who was heated. The Elf didn't seem keen on taking the bait, though he didn't step back either.

“Had Ethelmer been a horse he would have been a gelding by now,” Eoric groused, his eyes glued on the Rohan man with his jaw set.

Vigg turned his attention to his brother, who kept watching. “Why the interest?” he asked, somewhat puzzled by Eoric's reluctance to turn back to the game.

“You know I told you about who passed through here last summer?” Eoric asked, absently tapping the handle on the tankard in front of him.

With a slight nod Vigg replied, “Aye, the Longbeard princes.”

“Ethelmer is the one who almost earned himself a decree. It could still come, if our future king feels so inclined.” Eoric's eyes were still firmly on the blond man who would have cut a fine figure had he not been going soft around the edges, despite his youth, due to his habitual drunkenness .

“IT'S A DWARF!” Ethelmer shouted, slurring slightly on the consonants. “THEY SHOULD BE ROOTED OUT! EVERY SINGLE ONE!”

Vigg stiffened while Eoric's face darkened significantly. Then Eoric pushed himself from the seat with such force that the chair tipped over and clattered against the floorboards. Vigg shot up too and followed his brother.

Ethelmer reacted to the sound and turned his head, noticing their approach. “Oh, would you look at that,” he said with scorn in his voice. “The mongrels, coming to the rescue.”

Eoric had never been considered the physical one in the family and he looked quite Mannish to anyone who didn't know the truth. His mixed blood had granted him a heavier frame than most though, denser bones and muscles made for hammering materials of much tougher quality than Ethelmer, and his many years in the forge had made that frame even stronger.

Ethelmer was sprawled on the floor, rendered unconscious, before anyone reacted.

Vigg stared at his brother in disbelief and confusion as Eoric turned towards a short individual standing partly obscured behind the Gondorian male. A lot of hair, braids, a thicker frame than Men usually had. Vigg knew such features. A Dwarf.

“You mustn't stay here,” Eoric said to her, because it was a woman, the first pure Dwarven woman Vigg had seen in his life. He tried not to stare, but he couldn't tear his eyes from her apparition. She was not young, but she wasn't old either. There were white streaks in her curly near-black hair and hints at lines around her eyes, but her jawline had not yet succumbed to gravity, not in any way that was noticeable. There were nothing that identified her, no braid beads, no embroidery or other accessories that he could see, but something about the way she carried herself told him that she wasn't low-born. She was tall for a Dwarf, any Dwarf. Tall as a Longbeard, he realised. He coloured slightly when he realised he found her quite attractive, though he guessed that she was old enough to be his mother.

“I'll go to the magistrate myself, you have my word,” Eoric said, which pulled Vigg's attention away from the mystery woman. He stared at his brother with wide eyes.

“Eoric! You can't!” Vigg exclaimed and reached for his brother to shake some sense into him.

“Nay lad. I'll handle this,” the alehouse owner interjected. “There's no point in you losing your livelihood over someone like him.” He looked down at Ethelmer with contempt, then he turned to the crowd of patrons ogling the visitors, the two brothers and Ethelmer on the floor, and raised his voice. “I was the one who felled him, is that clear? If I so much as hear a whisper of anything else there will be consequences.”

The gathered crowd quickly melted away and the owner came around and picked up Ethelmer and dragged him across the floor to the door and hauled him outside. Vigg turned his attention back to the visitors and noticed that the Dwarf had stepped out of the Gondorian's shadow. She slowly opened the cloak she had wrapped around her, revealing the clothes underneath. Vigg's breath caught as he saw the hem of the tunic, the intricate pattern, gold on a midnight blue wool cloth. Before he could speak she was upon him, making the Iglishmêk sign for silence. He duly held his tongue.

“Not here,” she commanded in a low voice in Khuzdul, revealing the unmistakable Erebor accent they knew so well. The Elf and Gondorian glanced at her and somehow fell back without moving, letting her take command over the situation. “Come,” she continued and led the way towards the stairs.

She led them to an apartment in a side wing away from the public house downstairs. It was comparatively large and split into two rooms, beds in both, and with adjacent facilities. Not ostentatious, but comfortable. When the door closed behind the brothers she turned towards them and motioned towards padded chairs, then removed her cloak, dropping it on a bed.

Slowly Vigg and Eoric moved over to the chairs and sat down. Eoric seemed calm, unlike how Vigg felt. He eyed the Gondorian and the Elf, who removed their cloaks too. The Gondorian took the cloaks and hung them by the door while the Elf moved into the background, leaning against the wall by the reasonably large window, with its window shutters closed and locked. The Gondorian stayed by the door. There was nothing actually threatening in the situation, no weapons on display, yet Vigg felt trapped. He swallowed and dropped his eyes to the floor under his boots, only then noticing the rug, a fine wool one with an intricate pattern with stylised horses in yellow and white on a red background with a blue border.

“I am Dis, daughter of Thrain, son of Thror. Sister to Thorin Oakenshield.” Vigg looked up as the woman began to speak. He clenched his teeth to keep his jaw from dropping, even if he had sort of expected someone related to the Durin rulers. But not the king's sister. Her grey eyes studied Vigg and Eoric closely but without the disdain Vigg had expected. “I'm also mother to Fili, named heir, and Kili.”

Eoric gave their names and their Longbeard bloodline which brought a warm smile to her lips. “You're brothers?” she asked while her eyes went from Vigg to Eoric and back to Vigg again. They both nodded.

“I met your sons in summer, as they passed through...” Eoric's voice trailed off.

Dis nodded and her smile faded. “Yes, they set off a year ago to travel east. I have decided to join them.”

Vigg frowned. “In the Iron Hills? Are the Durins abandoning Ered Luin?” he asked.

Dis gave him a small smile which somehow seemed secretive and her fingers traced the personal pattern on her garment. It felt like an electric current shot up Vigg's spine. He shot a look at Eoric and spotted an odd fire in him. Drawing a deep breath he signed _“Khazad-dûm or Erebor?”_ using _Iglishmek_.

With a sigh Dis shook her head. “Secretive we are, though I dare say it doesn't help much.”

“We would not speak of it,” Eoric hurried to say. “In fact, I have known since summer but I have told no one.”

Vigg turned to stare at his brother with a gaping mouth. Eoric made a vague wiggling motion with his head and looked uncomfortable.

“You would have been silent too if you had faced prince Kili's wrath,” he said apologetically and looked down at his hand as he scratched at something on the armrest with his thumb nail.

“Kili? Angered?” Dis gave a pause. “Could it possibly have anything to do with a non-Dwarven young woman with hair the colour of flax straw?” she asked pointedly.

Eoric's face flushed red. “I didn't do anything untoward. It was more about what I hesitated to do...”

“Since you're in one piece it must have ended fairly well,” she said dryly. Eoric nodded and gave an account of the events, from his hesitance to approach Gisla and Mari, Ethelmer's lewd actions, to helping the company to leave before anything else happened.

Dis nodded slowly. “I understand his wrath, even if it was misguided. That inclination to protect is a difficult one to master. I also understand the situation at hand better. And I thank you.” She smiled.

“ _Erebor”_ she signed, and Vigg nearly stopped breathing. Eoric nodded with a sad smile. The air between them was heavy with questions, hope and fear of rejection. Vigg didn't want to hope, but at the same time, he could not help it. Erebor, the old kingdom, yet a new home for Dwarves if the dragon were killed. Would the attitudes in the North prevail or could this mean a shift?

Logically he knew there was nothing to indicate any change, but there was something in the way the king's sister acted that was different. There was no contempt, open or veiled, no censure – nothing of what Vigg was so used to facing. Not only that, but her travel companions were odd to say the least.

“Where it will end, I can't say,” Dis said out loud. “I can only hope it will mean a new dawn for everyone.”

Vigg held his breath. Those were positively revolutionary words and his whole world tilted.

“So you approve? Of Miss Mari?” Eoric asked and his eyes momentarily slid away from Dis to land on the Elf who stood well in the background, looking like he was trying to blend into the wall.

Dis looked thoughtful. “I think I will always fear the flightiness of Men, but she is Kili's One, and that cannot be changed. So far they seem to fit each other well.” She smiled slightly. “We all took her to our hearts from the beginning, long before my son accepted her proposal.”

Vigg ceased speaking since it all was so overwhelming. Eoric seemed better fitted to do the talking anyway, not as tongue-tied. Vigg had never been good at conversation to begin with and being a younger brother who was nowhere near majority didn't help. He was too Dwarven, so unlike Eoric, he'd have to wait for many years yet before he reached that point.

Though he didn't speak, he listened, his awe growing by the minute as he found out more about the three travellers and their plan. An ache began to take hold, an ache for being part of a new Erebor. On occasion Eoric would send him a quick glance, as if he sensed his brother's longing. Eoric shot him a small smile, then turned to the princess and suggested Vigg come along. Vigg's heart nearly stopped. “You'll need people who are good with horses and the region. Vigg is both of those things, and our father is a Longbeard.”

Vigg gripped the seat hard while holding his breath. The wood creaked in protest, forcing him to ease his grip before he broke the chair. Dis turned her eyes to Vigg, taking him in again, then replied that she would take it under consideration.

His head was aching and his heart soaring by the time they left, heading home to Eoric's simple home. As they strolled back home, Eoric shared everything that had happened the previous summer, the conversations, the way the princes had acted, in particular Kili towards his One which was like an echo of their own _adad_.

Vigg almost couldn't take it in, that the younger Longbeard prince's One was like their own mother. Or close to it anyway. The important thing was that she wasn't a Dwarf, and that she had support within the family. It was almost too much to take in.

...

The Elf turned out to have some weight to throw around in Edoras, which finally put Ethelmer where he should have been a long time ago. Vigg on the other hand was to be part of the group heading north, as master of the horses.

“Who better?” Celarion said when he came with the formal offer. “You're familiar with both Dwarves and Men, grew up with horses in the Rohirrim way, know the lands, are a smith, with no wife or children, and currently are not employed with anything else.”

Vigg had to agree that he seemed like the best candidate for such a position when the Elf put it like that. He wasn't offered the position out of pity, but because he had skills. He hadn't expected the emotions that welled up when he realised that he would be valued, not simply be another hand.

Otherwise he found it difficult to get used to the Elf. Celarion had good manners, treated Vigg well and stayed out of business that wasn't his, but unlearning what had once been engrained was difficult. Vigg had understood the nature of the relationship between Dis and Celarion the first evening they met. His own father had made a controversial decision, but in comparison, Dis' choice was impressively defiant, in particular when Vigg realised, after eavesdropping on the two, that Celarion was the father to Kili. It was outrageous. Mindboggling. And from Vigg's perspective everything he could have dreamt of. Once this secret was revealed, and it seemed like Dis was determined to make a public stand, things would have to change and people like him and his siblings would have to be accepted. Surely there could be no other outcome, could there??

So Vigg worked hard on changing his views, even though he found it strange and challenging. It weighed on him though, that he found it hard to shake himself lose from old prejudice. This Elf deserved it in Vigg's opinion. He drew a deep breath and lit his pipe before he went to distract the watch, allowing Celarion to succeed in ducking into Dis' tent unnoticed this evening as well.

o.o.o

_Anduin/Mirkwood, September/October 2941 TA_

Not everyone would have been pleased by being put in charge of the army's tail, the forage, kitchen, stores, and the people needed to keep the men with weapons battle-worthy, but Dis scoffed at the notion that true rulers were at the battle lines and nowhere else. She had never aired her opinions on this matter, but personally she believed it to be a folly to throw oneself as a commander into the thick of things. You lost all sense of what was going on and if measures had to be taken elsewhere on the field you could not decide what needed to be done, nor give the appropriate orders. And of course, there was the ever-present risk of getting killed, too. That alone could have devastating consequences for the outcome of a battle.

Besides, without the stores and folk to mend and cook, there would be no army.

The military operation from the south was led by Lord Celeborn and from the north Thranduil would move in. Their aim was to crush the Orc army between them, grinding them to dust between the stones that were the Elven armies. Meanwhile, the Lady Galadriel, Lord Elrond, Gandalf, and another wizard she'd had no dealings with before disappeared on some mission of their own. Her responsibility was to move the wagons and people to a good location, preferably out of the way, as the army as such left them and with a forced march descended on their enemy.

They followed slowly northward, parallel with the Anduin, watching the armed forces disappear  in an enormous dust cloud visible for many miles. She navigated after them, keeping her contingent close to the Anduin and prepared to cross the river if necessary. On occasion messengers arrived with updates and orders from Celeborn and his generals.

They were vigilant this close to the enemy. A few times Orcs tried to raid them as they moved north, but they were promptly beaten back. Then, somewhat anticlimactically, news reached them of the victory on the outskirts of Mirkwood. The amassed Orc army had fought well until Thranduil's troops appeared at their back. Chaos and panic ensued, the Orc lines broke, and the slaughter began.

Dis and her people joined the two armies and for a few days they camped together just outside Mirkwood, taking care of wounded and dead while planning their next move. The Elves were confident that they had fended off a catastrophe in the making that no one had considered before. However, the fact that an army had been built was worrying, the grave faces of the High Elves and wizards as they left for Dol Guldur even more so. A night with odd light phenomena made everyone uneasy. Celeborn gazed towards Dol Guldur for many hours, pale and his mind many leagues away.

“We must march north,” he declared once the grey light of dawn began chasing away the stars above.

Thranduil, whom Dis had only met in passing after they had joined the armed forces, paused and sent a questioning look Celeborn's way.

“I sense...” Celeborn paused for a moment, “The danger is not yet over.”

“Of course not,” Thranduil replied drily. “The Dwarves are on a mission to oust a dragon.”

Dis could feel the censure in his voice and frame. For a moment she couldn't help feeling affronted, but she reined it in as quickly as it reared its head. “Thranduil is not nearly as old as the Lady of Light, but in some ways he's old and bitter in a way she isn't. He has lost much, though he won't admit that it affects him as much as it does,” Celarion had told her on the eve when they had converged on the outskirts of Mirkwood. “I sometimes think it's the only fire that's left in him, the anger and resentment against the world.”

She smiled slightly and sipped her hot tea. Through her eyelashes she noticed Thranduil's surreptitious glance and how his mouth firmed in annoyance. “I'm not my brother,” she thought and raised her eyes, meeting his eerie blue gaze. She could tell he knew her thoughts in that moment by the surprise on his face.

“Smaug is but a symptom of something we have been too blind to see until now,” Celeborn replied, and there was a sharpness to him, both in voice and face, that Dis hadn't seen before. It also called Thranduil's attention away from her and the two fair Elves stared at each other until a slight blush crept over Thranduil's cheekbones. He inclined his head, an Celeborn's face softened slightly. “We must move.” Somehow those words seemed to encompass much more than a marching order. It was a change of attitude.

“Indeed we must,” Thranduil agreed. He rose with all the dignity he could muster and left, leaving Dis to wonder about the exchange between the two rulers. Celeborn stood too, nodded at her and departed.

They broke up in smaller battle groups to cross into the forest, and little by little they started their journey north.

...

While the battle was over, the danger was not, as the attackers drove home when they jolted Dis awake .

There was something eerily familiar about the situation that raised her hackles. She could feel it in the air, like an electric current, even if she couldn't put her finger on it. As she grabbed Frerin's sword and started issuing orders, trying to gain a picture of what was happening, she had a sense of having been there before. Not at the location, but in this situation. She shook herself free from it. It was distracting and she needed to focus.

They had expected stray bands of Orcs hiding in the woods after the battle, but this was different. These marauders were too many and they were mostly Goblins, which puzzled her. There had been very few Goblins in the army the Elves had crushed. Some had speculated that there was a rift between the Orcs of the south and the Misty Mountain Goblins, that the Goblins had chosen not to leave the tunnels and caves in the mountains to join their cousins.

In that moment another alternative surfaced in her mind: that the Goblins had been on their way to join the Orcs, and that this was part of the Goblin army about to overrun them.

For a while all was bedlam and it was impossible to tell what was happening around her. She was reactive and she knew that was a bad thing. But she had little choice as she had to make certain she didn't lose her life.

The creatures were poorly armed, but vicious and surprisingly quick. They used all means available, teeth and nails as well as weapons, and they kicked and headbutted and tore at clothes and hair whenever they could. That was surprisingly often because even if they were short, their arms were disproportionately long, as were their fingers.

Used to the darkness in their caves, they had no problem with the lack of light in the thick of night. The Elves didn't have poor night vision, but they were not nocturnal. Nor did they live underground like the Goblins, and it was noticeable. Dis had never truly thought about the blessings of good night vision before as she never had much use for it, but in this instant she sent silent gratitude to the Smith for that gift.

At every turn she was tempted to look for Celarion, but she pushed such thoughts away from herself. It was a distraction and it annoyed her that she couldn't banish him from her mind. She burned to find him and make certain he was safe, but she had a much greater responsibility: that of the survival of the entire contingent. His whereabouts after she had been roused to deal with the attack was not her concern, and she could only hope he'd stay alive on his own.

Eventually she could pull out enough to gain a better understanding of what was happening. The Elven officer she found could report that while it was a large group that had attacked them, these Goblins weren't as many as they seemed. Moreover, there were wounded ones among them, suggesting some had faced another foe, decimating their numbers.

“They must have been lying in wait for us though,” he said with urgency. “They could not have passed through our outer line of scouts without raising alarm.”

“Have you seen a potential leader yet?” she demanded.

“I have. An Orc, tall and grim looking with black hair. The Gundabad kind. He has vicious cuts across his head, mended with iron. He wears two bear tusks on his shoulder armour.”

Her gut sank. She knew that Orc, and now she knew why it all seemed so familiar to her.

“You know of him?” the officer asked as he saw her reaction.

She nodded and turned towards the improvised line of defence. “I know him very well,” she replied, fear clawing through her. She could barely breathe. Clenching her teeth she suppressed her emotions. Giving in to fear would lead to panic – and death. It would not do.

“The tide is turning,” the Elf declared. “We are beating them back.”

“Never underestimate them,” she warned and left and went in search for Celarion. The enemy might appear to be losing, but she had a gnawing suspicion that what these Goblins were after was not to beat the Elves, but rather a humiliating end to a descendant of Durin the Deathless. If she found Celarion, she was sure to find the Orc leading this attack. Memories from decades ago flashed before her eyes and a choking wrath welled up inside her. She would face Vestri's bane and one way or the other, what started seventy-five years earlier would end this night.

…

She could feel the malice, like a scent in the air, and she followed it until an unmistakeable figure came into view. As he danced out of the way of a swinging mace, the assailant became visible too. She stilled as she watched them for a beat, suddenly realising that Celarion was silent. Not calling to her. There was nothing at all coming from him. It nearly took her breath away when she realised that Celarion had refused to cry out and alert her to the danger he was in. She was sure he knew who this Orc was and what he was after, but he would not risk her life.

The Orc was playing cat and mouse with Celarion, that much she could see. Celarion had had basic training from an early age, but for a long time he hadn't touched any weapons at all. He had been practising over the past months reawakening old memory, but against this Orc he stood no chance. He should have been cut down by now. But that was not the plan, not yet.

Dis reined in her inclination to rush ahead, and instead she chose to move in from the side, trying to keep her approach from the Orc's attention. If Celarion was aware of her presence, he didn't show it. But his futile attempts at parrying the blows aimed at him suggested he knew very well where she was.

Desperately she cried at him in her mind, _“Run! Don't engage him! You're giving me away! Save yourself!”_

Celarion hesitated for a brief moment. It was enough. The mace hit him, sending him flying into a tree, and, seemingly lifeless, he fell to the ground, ending up hidden by the bracken undergrowth.

She instantly felt his pain.

He could not block it from her, and her eyes watered when it spread through her. His pain was hers and with alarm she realised that he could unwittingly harm and slow her down, because she didn't know how to stop this.

The Orc stalked towards where Celarion had fallen and slammed the mace into the ferns, but as she didn't feel anything more she assumed he must have missed. However, she had to stop this before Celarion was killed.

“You!” she growled. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the sword hilt, with the tip of the sword resting on the ground behind her. The Orc stopped and turned his head slightly so he could see her.

“Leave him!” she commanded and made herself a more obvious target to lure him to attack her instead.

The Orc made a slight pause, giving her a once-over, and then he aimed a sinister grin at her. She raised her chin in defiance and glared at him, moving a fraction to prepare to swing the blade in her hand.

“Dis, sister of the slayer Thorin, who revels so much in my father's death that he has taken the name Oakenshield.” His grin widened. “So you care for this Elf? It will be my pleasure to take him from you before you die.” he taunted.

She didn't respond, just stared at him. Abruptly he swung the mace and pure agony pierced her when it landed among the ferns. She couldn't help gasping, her knees buckled and she stumbled forward, dragging the sword behind her.

“Untouched by sickness and age they may be, but not impossible to end.” He raised the mace and hammered it into the ferns once more. She saw stars, and her field of vision narrowed. _“Please, stop this,”_ her mind pleaded. _“I can't stop you.”_ The pain lessened significantly even if it wasn't entirely gone. In a way she didn't wish to lose the sensation of pain entirely because it meant that he was still alive and at the level it had lessened to, it was bearable. Mahal, save him, she pleaded silently. Turn the Orc's wrath at me instead!

Shifting his grip on the mace, the Orc stepped forward and raised it again, this time aiming the sharp back end of the long handle downwards. She jumped into action without thought and swept her blade in his knee height, cutting him deeply.

Letting out an unarticulated roar he swayed while she scrambled to prepare to face his next strike which she was certain would be aimed at her after this. To her dismay he instead drove the long handle into the ferns and the pain that was still simmering in her ended abruptly.

“Baruk Khazâd! Khazâd ai-mênu!” she cried out, pulling strength from some hidden source inside and swung her sword again. The Orc tore up the mace, spun towards her and blocked her sword. Before he could tear the sword from her hands, she quickly whirled out of immediate danger, the blade firmly in her grip.

“I will finish the work that was started so many years ago by my father,” he said thickly, and the Westron words seemed to lie uneasy in his mouth. “The fall of the east will be written in your blood; the end of the line of Durin. I will hunt you all down, one by one, and today you will join your grandfather and father.” He bared his teeth at her.

She didn't move a muscle, simply watched, readying herself, focussing solely on where to strike when he ceased his chattering. When he lifted his mace, she moved and in one smooth motion she drove Frerin's sword through his torso, twisted it, cutting as much as possible through the abdomen as she pulled it out. She saw no pain in his face, only astonishment. The mace fell from his hands and his eyes went to his belly, where his intestines now were spilling out. Weakly he reached for them, to attempt to tuck them back in.

Without a word she swung the sword again with all her might feeling more than seeing when it cut through flesh and bone, severing his head from his body. Rotating with the sword, she didn't come to a stop until she had her back towards him. She didn't see the lifeless body collapsing on the ground, only heard it, and she barely registered the head rolling through the ferns in the corner of her eye. Dazed, she set her feet in motion, taking herself away from him, towards the spot among the ferns where Celarion had fallen.

Her field of vision was slowly shrinking and she felt like she was trudging through air, dragging the sword, now far too heavy for her, behind herself. Coming to a halt, she stood breathing, trying to will the swimming feeling in her head to recede, with little success. She tried to pull the sword up next to her to use it to prop herself up with it. But she failed and lost balance instead, and slumped down on her knees.

Letting go of the sword she fell forward, landing on her hands. Clumsily she reached out her right hand to search the forest floor for Celarion. Sounds were beginning to appear tinny to her and her eyesight had been reduced to what she could see just in front of herself, which was mostly broken bits of bracken. Her hand came across something and in a desperate last attempt to stay conscious she breathed in deeply, as she sluggishly patted along the object on the ground, making out a limb and a torso.

Blindly she scooted forward a few inches and felt hair under her hand. Hair that was wet and sticky. The smells assaulted her senses: the rotting plant material of Mirkwood and the distinct tang of blood. No movement. The body under her hand was absolutely still.

Closing her eyes she let herself fall and she lost consciousness.

o.o.o

Voices seemed far away when Dis slowly came back to life, and the words spoken nearby didn't mean anything to her. What was she doing here? Why were people speaking around her? She didn't know and she didn't remember anything either. Not without some effort she cracked her eyes open. The sun was hanging just above the horizon and everything glowed red at first, until she realised that what she was looking at was red hair being lit by the sun's rays. An Elf, she realised. A small smile pulled the corners of her mouth upwards as she realised this was a female Elf. With all that red hair she'd even draw the attention of Dwarves, Dis mused, and she couldn't help being amused by the idea of Dwarves such as her brother and Dwalin noting it but refusing to acknowledge such an attractive attribute in an Elf.

The Elf caught her eyes and smiled at her. “I'm pleased to see you awake,” she said, and Dis felt a cool hand press hers. She sighed in relief that the words made sense to her again. Then she remembered.

The Elf instinctively pressed her hand more tightly and moved the other to her chest to hold her down. “My Lady, he lives,” she hastened to say. “He's injured, but he's recovering.”

“But I felt...” her voice trailed off.

The red-haired Elf smiled. “He passed out. He forced himself to do so in order for you to cease being bothered. All according to himself.” The Elf quickly glanced up and around them and then turned back to her.

“I'm sure he'll come soon. Stay here and rest”

Dis pressed her lips together. “I assure you, it's not a habit of mine making a fool out of myself like this. Passing out is quite un-Dwarven.” She made a face and slowly moved her head to see how she was reacting to movement. In the corner of her eye she noticed the Elf grow sombre.

“You are not aware that you were wounded then, I presume. That and the shock caused by the onslaught of pain proved too much for you,” the red-head said quietly.

Dis eyebrows arched. “No, I don't recall being injured.”

“You had a blade wound in your leg. Not deep, but you have lost blood. It has been looked after and it will be a nuisance for a while, but you can still travel on horseback.”

“Thank you,” Dis said, guessing it was the red-haired Elf who had bound the injury.

“You are most welcome.” The Elf inclined her head gracefully. “I was not expecting to meet you this soon, I must admit,” she continued with open curiosity.

“Meet me?” Dis' brow knitted.

“Dis, sister of Thorin Oakenshield, daughter of Thrain, son of Thror.” The red-head nodded and her smile grew. “Mother of Fili and Kili.”

Dis made a quick assessment of the Elf by her side, so young-looking yet probably centuries older than herself, if not millennia. “You are a Mirkwood Elf,” she stated. As far as she knew there was no love between them and her folk, and she couldn't understand why this Elf seemed so friendly.

“I am. I’m Tauriel, captain of the Mirkwood guard. I met your sons in spring as they passed by our realm, and your brother and his company I escorted through the forest quite recently.”

“So it was your lot to take him through this forest. I heard about it as we arrived in Lothlorien, that they would be assured a safe passage. I trust they were suitably grateful?” Dis smirked as she imagined her brother facing this Elf.

Tauriel's eyes twinkled with amusement. “There might have been some injured pride to begin with, but eventually our efforts were appreciated.”

“My brother? Appreciating the efforts of Elves? I must have misheard,” Dis chuckled dryly.

The red-haired Elf laughed softly. “It may have been limited to the efforts of one Elf. He does not care much for my Lord Thranduil, nor Prince Legolas.”

“No, I dare say not.” Dis studied Tauriel, who smoothed her features, her face becoming unreadable. “I'm glad my brother could see past his anger,” she said, sensing strong emotions under the cool surface. “It's not his habit to do so.”

Tauriel's eyes grew distant and slid away as she nodded, forcing Dis to tilt her head slightly as she peered up at the captain. She had seen such a reaction before, but decided to let it slide for now.

“I only have one question right this moment though,” Dis said. “When can we leave?”

A small smile curved the captain's mouth and tentatively she looked back at Dis. “In the morning. We camp for the night here.” She looked up as if alerted by something. “Here comes Celarion.” She gave Dis' hand a quick squeeze before she rose and inclined her head. “My lord,” she mumbled.

Celarion came into Dis' field of vision and he smiled warmly at Tauriel. “Thank you, but there's no need to address me by any titles.” He turned his attention to Dis and his smile softened. Stiffly he began to lower himself to the ground while Tauriel hovered by his side, gripping his hand and aiding him.

“I will be nearby,” she said and melted away into the growing shadows, leaving Dis and Celarion by themselves. Celarion picked up Dis' hand and held it gently in his.

“His name was Bolg,” he said with solemn eyes. “And he has a sister.”

o.o.o

_The Woodland Realm, Mirkwood, October 2941 TA_

The forest was strangely empty. Urzul felt rather than knew that there had been a great shift. Something had happened in the south, something else beside the battle. The twisted creatures that had been spawning in the south and spreading north to infest the Elven territory were gone, at least in the part they were crossing through. The wild Elves' lands. Normally she wouldn't willingly cross into it, but as empty it was of the spiders and other animals that never belonged here, equally empty it was of Elves.

A forest does not change overnight, but Urzul knew that Mirkwood would become Greenwood once more, in time. They didn't speak of it between them, but the change affected them, in different ways. Tova breathed easier and while she didn't exactly chatter, she did speak more, and she smiled. Urzul suddenly realised how impossible it would have been to keep Tova among them. She had adapted to their way of life, but now it was plain for them all to see what she would really be like in a place that suited her.

Urzul had never felt like she didn't fit among the Orcs. They were her own and would always be, but for the first time she became aware that she carried something else and that the change around them didn't bother her the way it bothered Homraz and Shel.

She felt like she stood between Tova, who was reaching for the piercing rays of sun, painting golden flecks on the ground, and Homraz and Shel, who kept to the shadows, shying away from the same. Neither dark nor light bothered her, but neither attracted her either. A gift, she knew, because it was a weakness Orcs and Men shared, to prefer one and avoid the other. Because she was both there were no limits. But it also meant she could understand and feel the longing for light that Tova knew here in the Elven realm, as it was throwing off its shadowy shackles. Homraz and Shel would never be able to.

The end of the journey with Tova was drawing near. They were uncomfortably close to the Elven King's Halls and the settlement among the trees. This should have been tempting fate, but it was clear that if there was a time when they could do this, slip through without detection, it was now. Beyond the forest was the town on the water, where Tova would find her new home, at least for now. A strange ache had settled in Urzul's chest and it chafed like a stone when she thought about it.

“I can tell you are worried,” Tova said quietly as they settled to rest for a while. “I'll manage.”

Urzul gave her a bleak smile. “I don't doubt it.”

The silence stretched and Urzul felt they had to speak, to warn about the future.

“Just because things somehow changed in the south, this does not mean that there will be peace. Don't count on this to be a permanent home.”

Tova nodded and sighed. “I'm about to cross over to what in essence is the enemy.”

Urzul averted her eyes, and a moment later, so did Homraz. Only Shel held Tova's gaze, slowly nodding.

“Yes,” Shel confirmed. “The Dunlendings are our allies. These Men? They have chosen the Elves. And the Dwarves. Those bonds might become stronger and we are likely to be sent to tear through this region eventually. When? Who knows?”

“So we are to become strangers.” Tova frowned sharply and ducked her head. “I don't want to.”

“There are a lot of things we don't want in this life,” Homraz sighed. “But look at you! You're like this greenery.” She swatted the ferns by her side. “You hunger for light, reaching for it. It makes you smile. The days in the south on the other hand wore you to a thread, in the darkness and damp coolness in Dol Guldur. No matter how much you tried you were a Man among us, and we all felt it. You will never suffer here as you did with us, even as we tried our best.” Homraz smiled. “It's just the way it is.”

“I'm afraid.” Tova's voice was small and it was a plea – please, reassure me.

The Orcs had nothing to say to this. Lying to give comfort was not a concept they were familiar with, but they didn't want to increase the discomfort either.

Tova drew a deep breath and pulled herself together, raised her chin and looked steadily at them. “You should go north now. Not stick around here. You're risking your lives by coming with me this far.”

“We said we would take you to safety, and we will,” Urzul grumbled doggedly.

Tova nodded. “I know, and it's a generous and kind offer, but... Save yourselves before it's too late. I will manage. You know I will.” She turned her eyes to Urzul and swallowed hard. “Please.”

Urzul saw Homraz and Shel surreptitiously watch her and wait for her decision. She couldn't deny that Tova was right, but she was stalling because she didn't want to sever this bond. She had to, she knew she had to, but knowing the truth did not make it any easier. Don't be foolish, she chastised herself. You know what must be done.

“Then go. Follow the river until you reach the lake and then go up the shoreline and you'll reach Lake-Town.” Urzul kept her voice as casual as she could, as if this was just a temporary separation.

Tova nodded and stood, shedding the Goblin armour and digging out her clothes from her days in Holmroyd, before she left with the Urzul, Shel, and Homraz. They were little more than rags now, but they would have to do. She kept the Goblin boots and trousers and discarded the rest. Once she was finished she hefted her bag and turned to face them. For a moment she hesitated, but then she quickly moved to wrap her arms around Homraz and Shel, who returned the hug without hesitation.

Urzul steeled herself for the onslaught of emotions as Tova turned her attention from Homraz and Shel.

“I'm sure she lives, the Fairy. They got away that night, those Dwarves and the Fairy, I’m sure of it,” Urzul said. Tova's eyes slid away, and her chin seemed to grow more square somehow. “You know she survived, don't you?”

Tova nodded reluctantly. Urzul raised her eyes and squinted at the sky blinking through the sparse autumn canopy. “Unless a dragon has had greater success than us, she's around there somewhere, in Lake-Town or in that cave the Dwarves call home. You could always try to find her.”

“But-” Tova looked puzzled and then her eyes snapped up. “Do you want me to kill them?”

Urzul sighed. “Can you? I doubt it.” It hadn't been her intention at all to suggest it, but perhaps she should make it a challenge. Safe in their mountain the Durins would not expect someone like Tova to cut them down.

“You objected in spring and in such a way that I wouldn't expect you to change your opinion. My trust in you on this matter is forever gone.” She studied Tova carefully. The girl had been close to tears as it was, but now she couldn't hold them back. It pained Urzul to see the effects of her manipulation, and the pain made her angry. Swallowing it down, she put her hand on Tova's shoulder.

“We all have our weaknesses.” She pressed the bony shoulder firmly. Tova quickly dried her face using the sleeves on her shirt and squared her shoulders while she tried to master her breathing.

Urzul gave in and pulled the girl into a crushing embrace, then pushed her away with her hands on Tova's shoulders. “Now go. Hurry. You'll be in Lake-Town tomorrow if you keep a good pace, but don't take unnecessary risks. The Elves may not in general kill Men, but they are on alert and accidents can happen.”

Tova nodded mutely and when Urzul let her go, she immediately started for the river and ducked out of sight.

Urzul sat down and so did Homraz and Shel, huddled closely together, Homraz with her fingers tangled in Shel's hair and Shel hiding her face against Homraz shoulder. When darkness fell they gathered their things and began making their way north, towards Mount Gundabad.

 


End file.
